


You Left Me And I Broke

by ProdigyBlood



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Chef makes a cameo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, One sided Twenny, Paranoia, Paranormal, Please Don't Hate Me, References to Depression, Romance, Slow Burn, Sort of Twenny, Supernatural Elements, You might hate me, characters gunna die, did I mention I'm sorry?, here there be monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 48
Words: 93,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProdigyBlood/pseuds/ProdigyBlood
Summary: In the dead of night, Craig Tucker and his family vanish from South Park with no word of warning, leaving everyone, including Craig’s boyfriend, Tweek, behind.Now, nine years later, Craig is back and mystery shrouds him. Tweek makes it his mission to figure out just what the hell is going on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a rough idea where this story is going so hopefully I’ll keep up with it. Fingers crossed haha. The boys are around nineteen in this.

Tweek Tweak twitched slightly as he raised the mug of steaming coffee to his lips. He was sitting at a corner table in Tweek Bros. Coffee, long legs stretched out, people watching while he took a quick and much needed break. His gaze fell – not for the first time – on the girl serving behind the counter. She was new. Lizzie, she’d said her name was. Tweek wasn’t sure he believed her. She’d hesitated when she’d given it. She’d gotten flustered when he’d shook her hand. She glanced at him too often. 

Tweek had told his dad his suspicions that she was a spy for the new rival coffee shop down the road and Mr Tweak had roared with laughter. “Tweek,” he had taken his son by the shoulders, “she just fancies you.”

Tweek twitched again and tilted his head, shamelessly staring at her. Whatever his dad thought, Tweek knew the truth. She didn’t fancy him – _nobody_ ever fancied _him_. She was a spy, pure and simple and Tweek would be keeping an eye on her. There was no way he was letting her get her hands on their special recipe. 

Lizzie raised her eyes, meeting his and a blush spread across her face. She looked down again quickly. 

“G-gah! T-that’s right,” he said under his breath. “I’m on to you.” 

Tweek drained the dregs of his coffee and returned to the cash register with a determined stride. He stood directly in front of the teenage girl, looking down at her with his arms crossed. She tensed. 

“You can go n-now,” he said to Lizzie. The girl looked up, shocked at his blunt manner. 

“Go?” she repeated. “But I’ve still got an hour left.”

“It’s a… It’s a Friday evening, right? Surely you want to get out for the night? Spend time with your boyfriend?” 

Lizzie’s bemused smile shifted into one more genuine. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said. She sounded far too happy about it. Tweek narrowed his eyes, twitching again slightly. Lizzie watched him for a moment and then sighed. “You’re not very good at this, are you?” 

“I-I’m plenty good!” he argued. “I know just what you – nngh – are.” 

“Oh?” Lizzie looked genuinely surprised. Tweek smiled triumphantly. She’d thought she could pull wool over his eyes but he’d shown her! He wasn’t some idiot she could manipulate. He wouldn’t let her bring Tweek Bros. down. 

“You’ll never get our secret recipe!” 

“Your secret…? Tweek, what are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play innocent,” he said. He placed his hands on her shoulders and started guiding her none too gently out from behind the counter. He was almost a head taller than her, making it easy to manoeuvre her. “M-my parent’s put me in charge while they’re away and I don’t want you here.” 

“You’re being ridiculous!” Lizzie tried to pull away from him. “Your parents warned me about your ‘ticks’ and whatnot but this is a whole other level!” She didn’t look friendly any more. Now she just looked downright pissed. 

“I want you to – nngh” he twitched violently, “l-leave.”

“Oh, I’m leaving,” she snapped. “I’ll be having words with your father when he returns.” With that, Lizzie stormed out of the shop, leaving the door wide open. Tweek glanced nervously over his shoulder, aware that there were a couple of customers inside who had just witnessed the entire exchange. He looked at them, twitching, until they looked away and then he moved over to shut the door. 

His gaze fell on the snowy street, turning right to see Bijou cinema as Lizzie stormed past it. He frowned. There, leaning against the cinema wall… it couldn’t be! He looked away, blinking furiously and rubbing at his eyes until they were sore. He looked back. There was nobody there. 

For a moment, though, Tweek thought he had seen Craig Tucker, his elementary school boyfriend who had vanished one night without so much as a trace. 

He watched the cinema for a long minute, twitching. “Gahh!” he exclaimed, tugging at his hair in frustration. “N-now you’re seeing ghosts. It’s _too much pressure!_ ” 

He went back inside. 

 

Clyde Donovan turned up just as Tweek was about to lock up. 

“Gahh!” Tweek jumped, brandishing the coffee mug he was holding as Clyde let himself in. 

“Relax, Tweek. It’s just me.” Holding his hands up in a surrender pose, Clyde stepped closer. “Lizzie told me what happened.”

“Y-you’re working with her?!” Tweek didn’t lower his coffee mug. 

“What? No! I gave her my number a couple of days ago but she said she wasn’t interested.” He gave Tweek a pointed look and sighed as he realised his friend didn’t have a clue as to his meaning. “Look, man. She likes you. Well, liked, I guess. Now she’s just freaked out.”

“She’s a – nngh! – spy! She’s spying on us! She want’s our secret recipe!”

“What, meth?”

“Ggahh!” Tweek started shaking his head frantically, pulling at his hair. Clyde approached cautiously, keeping his hands in front of him. Once near enough, he gently wrested the coffee mug out of Tweek’s grip and placed it on the counter. He placed his hands on Tweek’s shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. 

“Tweek, you need to calm down, okay?”

“I am calm!” Tweek shot back.

“Clearly. Look, man, you’re just freaking out because your parents are away and so you’re in charge. It’s too much pressure, right?” He smirked a little. “I can promise you, Lizzie isn’t a spy and no other coffee shop wants to put goddamn meth in their coffee’s, okay? Jesus, we need to wean you off that stuff.”

Tweek just twitched. 

“Look, once you’ve closed up, come to Token’s with me. His place is looking pretty damn cool now. You’ve not seen it yet, right? We can get some pizza and beer.”

Tweek hesitated. He wasn’t sure he was in the best place mentally to be socialising right now. Then again, his friends had seen worse. Jesus Christ, they’d had to deal with the long months after Craig had left when he was a complete and utter mess. It may have been years ago now but if they could stick by him through that, then they could stick by him through anything. 

“O-okay, man,” he said. “Let me just lock up.”

After the coffee shop was locked and Tweek had checked the door four times to be sure, they headed to Token Black’s new apartment in the centre of town. Having rich parents, Token was one of the first in the group of friends to move out of his parents home, not counting Stan and Kyle who lived in college dorm rooms outside of South Park during term time. 

The air was crisp and cold, encouraging them to walk fast. As they passed the post office, Tweek did a double take and returned to the shop window. 

“What is it?” Clyde asked, rejoining his friend. 

“I t-thought I saw – ” Tweek trailed off and shook his head frantically. For a moment, in his peripheral vision, he thought he’d seen a blue jacket and chullo hat in the queue. A second glance showed that it was just his imagination. He wondered why Craig Tucker was on his mind today. He hadn’t thought about his ex boyfriend for at least two years now and yet today he had ‘seen’ him twice. It wasn’t fair. Craig had walked out on him and screwed up Tweek for a long time. He’d finally gotten over it and moved on, but now the damn selfish bastard was back and messing with him all over again and it. Just. Wasn’t. Fair!

“Thought you saw what?” Clyde asked, although he had obviously already lost interest and was watching a group of girls across the road, rubbing his cold hands together as he smiled at them. They noticed and giggled amongst themselves.

“Nothing.” Tweek sighed. Craig Tucker was long gone from South Park and he wasn’t coming back. Especially not for Tweek, the boy he’d dated for a while when he was ten. “J-Jesus Christ, Clyde, stop flirting and let’s g-go. Gah! It’s freezing!” 

“Hey, you’re the one who stopped,” Clyde said, pouting. He didn’t take his eyes off the girls as they resumed walking. He was completely oblivious to Tweek’s twitching and muttering, so used to the erratic behaviour that he had no problem tuning it out. 

They arrived at Token’s and Tweek did his best to calm down and enjoy his evening. He couldn’t stop his busy mind, though. It shouted loudly at him, screaming jumbled thoughts about spies and liars and Craig Tucker. 

When Tweek left Token’s, alone, a couple of hours later, he was twitching more than ever, glancing over his shoulder every other minute for fear of being followed. The bright moon was working towards being round, lighting his way but playing havoc with the shadows, making them look like they were hungrily reaching out for him. They wanted to eat him, steal him away like they had Craig. The shadows wanted him gone. Tweek upped his pace, almost running. 

He had just gotten home and was twisting his keys in the lock when he heard a dog howl. It was too much. Screaming loudly, Tweek threw himself inside the house and slammed the door, locking it and sliding the chain across with shaking hands for added security. He stood, alone, arms wrapped around himself, staring at the locked door for a few minutes. When nothing happened, he sighed heavily and made his way to the kitchen. 

Jesus Christ, he needed a cup of coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie isn’t important - don’t worry that she’s going to cause a love triangle or anything. I just used her to show how bad Tweek’s paranoia and anxiety is. Also, somebody for Clyde to flirt with haha. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s somebody in Tweek’s bedroom...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the Kudos and comments! You guys are too kind! I want to apologise for the God awful title of this fic btw haha. I suck at titles.

Tweek woke during the middle of the night in a panic. His blankets were a tangle around him and, despite the room being freezing, he was sweating. He’d been having a bad dream but he couldn’t remember most of it anymore. It had involved hungry shadows, underpants gnomes and a pair of intense golden eyes, though. He thought Craig Tucker might have featured, too. 

The room was gloomy, casting everything in terrifying, dark shadows that seemed to feast on the blackness around them. Tweek sunk lower into his bed, using his feet to untangle the blankets wrapped around them. Something in the corner of his bedroom caught his eye and Tweek froze mid-kick. 

There was somebody in his room. 

In the far corner stood the silhouette of what could only be a man. Tweek didn’t have anything that looked remotely like that in that particular corner… Did he? He was certain he didn’t. No… definitely not. There was no lampshade or hanging coats, nothing at all that could cast a shadow like that. 

Tweek let out a strangled screamed and pulled the covers up to his chin, his eyes not leaving the dark spot. He twitched, trying his hardest not to blink. The silhouette didn’t move. 

Eventually, Tweek plucked up enough courage to turn around and flick on his bedside lamp. Whoever was standing in the corner wouldn’t have time to hide in the few seconds it took. What he would do when faced with his potential murderer was another thing, though. He’d probably just scream at them. 

Light flooded the room and Tweek blinked repeated, eyes adjusting. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and turned. 

There was nobody there. 

Picking up his nearest weapon (an old Chinpokomon plush) Tweek forced himself from his bed. He yelled in fright as his bare foot touched something damp ( _blood, blood, oh Jesus Christ, it’s blood!_ ) but it was just coffee that he’d left on the floor and managed to knock over during the night. Or, more probable, that somebody _else_ had knocked over. 

Clutching his Chinpokomon to his chest (it made a better comforter than weapon, Tweek realised) he moved slowly and methodically around his room, checking all available hiding spaces. They were all empty. He did the same around the entire house but there was nobody there. 

Finally, he made a flask of coffee and took it back into his bedroom. He pulled his covers from the bed and dragged them over to his closet. He made a nest inside the confined space, curled up and closed the door behind him. 

Tweek didn’t get any more sleep that night. 

 

There was banging on the front door, loud and seemingly angry. Tweek shoved his fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming. 

Eventually the banging stopped.

 

There was somebody in his house. This time he was certain; Tweek could hear their footsteps. His knuckles were bleeding from biting down on them to stop from screaming. Why, oh why, hadn’t he brought his phone with him into his nest? He’d made some coffee and forgotten his phone. That was some screwed up priorities, he noted. 

He heard a muffled voice and realised with horror that it was somebody calling his name. Oh God, he was going to be killed, he just knew he was going to be killed! 

He looked at his surroundings but there was nothing in the closet that could be used as an effective weapon. It was just another thing he’d failed to grab. Maybe he deserved to be killed, after all? He was bloody useless. He didn’t really deserve to get out of this situation alive. 

Tweek tensed as he heard his bedroom door creak open. 

“Tweek?”

Tweek let out a started yelp, muffling it with his bloody hand a fraction of a second too late. The creaking stopped. 

Clasping a second hand over his mouth, Tweek tried not to so much as twitch. His wide, blood shot eyes watched the closed closet door. There was a rim of light where the door didn’t quite meet the carpet. Tweek whimpered as that rim of light was blocked by a pair of shoes. 

The door slid open. 

“Tweek?” Kenny McCormick crouched down, his blue eyes wide with concern as he took in the sight of Tweek, twitchy and wide-eyed, cocooned in blankets, hiding in his bedroom closet. He frowned slightly as he noticed the blood – a mixture of dry and fresh – smudged across Tweek’s hands and face. “What’re you doing in there, buddy?” Kenny asked softly, almost as if he were talking to a frightened puppy. 

“T-t-t-there was somebody in the house,” Tweek said, stuttering. 

“You sure?”

“Saw – nngh! – saw them.”

“Okay,” Kenny said. “I think they’re gone now, though, so why not come out of there and let me clean your hands?” Tweek looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time the damage he’d caused to them. He yelped in surprise. “It’s okay,” Kenny soothed. “You gunna come out, dude?” Tweek shook his head frantically. “Okay then.” Kenny sat down on the floor, crossing his legs underneath him. 

He unzipped his trademark orange parka and slipped his hands inside, underneath his armpits and Tweek remembered that, oh yeah, it was cold. He hadn’t turned the heating on. 

“Clyde called me,” Kenny said after a long minute of silence. “He was worried when you didn’t open Tweek Bros. He came knocking here a couple of times, but you didn’t answer.”

“That was – nngh – Clyde?” Tweek asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Kenny said. “He had to get to class otherwise he’d be here now.”

“How did y-you get in?” Tweek twitched violently, clenching his fists. Fresh blood pooled around his knuckles. Kenny reached out, grabbing his hands and unclenching them. 

“I have my ways,” he said mysteriously. He fished a tissue out of his pocket and started wiping Tweek’s knuckles. 

“Mysterion strikes again,” Tweek joked quietly, his green eyes watching his hands as Kenny wiped them clean. 

“Something like that. Have you been sitting in here all night?”

“From like, 3 AM?” Tweek twitched. 

“Jesus, Tweek. Come on, please come out? I’ll make you breakfast and then we can go open Tweek Bros. together?”

“Gah! Jesus Christ! My parent’s are going to kill me!”

“Relax,” Kenny soothed. “You’re only two hours late. Nobody will mind.”

“T-two hours!? Nngh!” He twitched again, pulling his hands away from Kenny to stand up. “Oh man, it’s too much pressure! Oh Jesus Ch- _Gah!_ ” 

“What is it?” Kenny was suddenly alert. 

“I need the toilet,” Tweek squeaked. Kenny laughed, scrambling out of the way as Tweek rushed passed him to get to the toilet in time. 

While Tweek was in the bathroom, Kenny made his way downstairs and rooted through the fridge until he found some bacon. Although he disapproved, he made some coffee as well, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to coax his friend out of the house without it. 

When Tweek joined him a short while later, he had washed the smudges of blood from his face and dressed. Kenny smiled, amused, at the poorly buttoned up shirt. It was something he’d done a lot in elementary school but had improved greatly at in his teenage years. Tweek followed Kenny’s gaze.

“Gah! I – ” He moved his trembling hands to the shirt but they were shaking so much that he couldn’t unbutton it. 

“Let me,” Kenny said, taking the bacon off the heat. He avoided Tweek’s eyes as he unbuttoned the shirt slowly, straightening the two sides out. It could do with an iron, too, but Kenny thought suggesting that was going a little too far. He was already cooking Tweek breakfast and dressing him, ironing his shirt as well was a little too house wife for Kenny’s liking. 

Trying not to stare too much at Tweek’s slim, bare chest, Kenny started re-buttoning the shirt from the bottom and worked his way up. He left the top button undone and then brushed some imaginary lint from Tweek’s shoulder. If this had been any of his friends other than Tweek, he would have cracked some dirty jokes, maybe even touched them a little inappropriately. Tweek was different, though. Kenny always felt a desperate need to protect Tweek, especially from himself. 

“All better,” he said, finally meeting Tweek’s eyes and smiling.

“Thanks,” Tweek said, and twitched. He turned his attention away from Kenny and to the bacon, putting it back on the heat to re-warm it. He seemed completely oblivious to Kenny watching him. Kenny sighed, lowering his gaze and slipping his hands into his pockets.

 

Kenny helped out at the coffee shop for a few hours but, as it started to darken outside, he had to get to his night job. He promised to check in on Tweek later.

To make up for opening late, Tweek left the coffee shop open well past usual closing time. It probably had less to do with opening late and everything to do with feeling safer in the warm coffee shop with its thick and comforting aroma, though. 

To keep himself from falling asleep, Tweek drank coffee after coffee. By the time he finally closed up for the night, he couldn’t go more than a few seconds without twitching. 

He spent longer than necessary cleaning up, afraid to walk home in the dark, alone. Eventually, though, he could find no more reasons to hang about; he’d already cleaned all the work surfaces six times, any more and he’d wear a hole through them. 

He checked that he’d locked up at least five times before he finally started the walk home. As the previous night, the shadows seemed to mock and chase him and Tweek found himself jumping at every noise, whether it be a passing car or a wandering cat meowing. 

The streets were especially quiet for South Park on a Saturday night. Usually there were several house parties going at full blast by now. Sometimes, the parties spread out into the streets. Tonight, though, it was eerily quiet. It just made Tweek all the more paranoid. 

He sped up. 

A dustbin clattered loudly to his right and Tweek screamed, his feet almost leaving the ground as he jumped. 

“It’s just a cat, it’s – nngh – just a cat…”

The moon was bright. Tweek couldn’t tell whether it was full or not. Either way, it lit up the streets better than any street lamps would have. He glanced over his shoulder as he walked. Nothing. 

Suddenly he was falling, the ground coming up to meet his face with startling speed. He’d tripped over his feet as he’d sped along and glanced over his shoulder at the same time. He hit his chin painfully and tasted blood as he bit his tongue. He laid there, on the cold pavement, trying to gather himself. Everything hurt. 

Finally, when he felt able, he propped himself up, inspecting his hands. They had already been damaged thanks to his previous night, and now he’d scrapped the flesh from his palms. Stretching his legs out gingerly, he saw that he’d torn his left knee and blood was staining the denim. 

“O-ow,” he groaned, his eyes watering a little from the pain. 

There was another clash from behind him, and, with a squeal, Tweek tried to scoot against a nearby wall to hoist himself up. 

Mid scoot, he heard a growl and froze. He bit his lip, realising he could still taste iron in his mouth. Slowly, he twisted his head around, yelping again as he saw it. 

It was a wolf. Large and brown, with golden eyes that shone like the moon. Its teeth were bared, a low growl reverberating in its throat. Its eyes were locked on Tweek, still frozen to the spot, his bum on the pavement. 

Tweek’s left eye twitched. His hands trembled. He didn’t know whether to stay still, scream for help or run. In his mind, all three options resulted in him, dead. 

The wolf moved closer, taking its sweet time as if it knew there was no escaping for Tweek. 

“Oh man, oh man, I’m going to die,” Tweek started ranting. He tugged at his hair, his eyes frantically scanning his surroundings for a way out. There was none. He couldn’t outrun a wolf. Even if he wasn’t injured, he wouldn’t be able to outrun a goddamn wolf!

It was so close now. Tweek braced himself against the wall, his eyes squeezing tightly shut. He could hear the angry growl, almost feel its warm breath and spittle on his face. 

He was going to die. 

The was a yelp. For a second Tweek thought it came from himself but no – it hadn’t. He tentatively opened one eye and this time the yelp _did_ come from him.

There was a bloody baseball bat dangling just in front of his vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, you’ve no idea how much this chapter made me want to turn this into a Twenny fic. You will learn why Kenny is so protective of Tweek later but for now just know that they grew close in the years that Craig was gone. And yes, Kenny does have a thing for Tweek but Tweek, bless him, is oblivious (and totally still burning a flame for Craig even all these years later <3 haha)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek and Craig are reunited... briefly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! Knowing you guys are enjoying this is really spurring me on :) I’m about to hit 10k on my draft of this, so don’t worry about not getting updates. The only reason I’m not updating daily is that I always want to have at least two unpublished chapters under my belt incase I lose motivation for a bit.
> 
> Also, I’ve noticed that although this is an ongoing fic, it’s marked as complete. I’ve had a fiddle but I’ve no idea how to change that... You can tell I’m new here lol

“C-Craig?” Tweek’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. He hadn’t seen Craig Tucker since he was ten, and yet, undeniably, the tall man brandishing the bloody bat was, indeed, Craig. 

He was tall – so very tall - and slim with broad shoulders. Piercing blue eyes sat above impressive cheek bones on a narrow face. His messy black hair poked out from – Tweek couldn’t believe it – his blue chullo hat with its yellow puffball. He looked exactly like Tweek had imagined, except, perhaps, for the fact that he was brandishing a weapon and attacking wolves. Tweek had never imagined _that_. 

“Get out of here, Tweek,” Craig said, readying the bat and walking towards the still downed wolf. Ignoring the pain, Tweek shuffled forward, grabbing at Craig’s blue jacket. Craig froze, his shoulders tensing. After a moment, he turned his head to look down at Tweek. 

“C-come with me,” Tweek said, his eyes darting from Craig to the wolf. It was large and terrifying and it was also attempting to get to its paws. “Ahh!” Tweek couldn’t help the yell that escaped. 

Craig sighed and pulled his jacket free. He turned back to the wolf which had successfully gotten back on its paws, spittle flying as it growled. “Did somebody call for a bat to the face? Come on, ugly, let’s dance.” 

The wolf lowered to its haunches, ready to pounce when a voice yelled out from the end of the street. “Tweek!” All gazes fell to where a blond in an orange parka was running towards them. 

“Crap,” Craig said. He turned back just in time to see the wolf bound away. “Double crap.” He didn’t stop to say anything more, didn’t offer Tweek a hand up or pause to check if he was alright; he just went, chasing after the wolf without a glance back. 

Tweek watched him go from his place on the snowy floor, trembling, twitching and confused. 

“T-Tweek,” Kenny gasped, hunching over as he struggled to catch his breath. “I heard you yell from a street over. You okay?” Tweek nodded numbly. “Was that – ?” Kenny cut off, staring hesitantly in the direction Craig and the wolf had vanished. 

“Craig,” Tweek said quietly, his head nodding up and down as if his neck was a spring. Despite knowing exactly where he was, despite being hauled to his feet by Kenny, Tweek suddenly felt completely and utterly lost. 

 

Kenny ended up staying the night, not that either boy managed to get much sleep. They stayed up on the sofa, drinking coffee with films on that neither watched. Kenny tried to ask Tweek about Craig but gave up on his fourth attempt after getting no reaction each time he asked. Tweek was in his own world, staring straight ahead without seeing or hearing anything. The only sign that he was still alive were his frequent twitches. 

When morning hit, Kenny flicked the news on just in time for the mornings big headline. 

“-Eye witness’s claimed the attacker was a ‘big, ugly dog-like-creature”. Here with the report is an ageing midget in a bikini.” 

The scene shifted to the well known reporter who, for some bizarre reason, seemed to favour a pink bikini when he went on air. In true South Park tradition, the camera’s were not being shy about what they showed and Tweek squealed loudly, hiding his face. 

“Holy shit,” Kenny breathed. 

“Tom, as you can see, I’m standing right at the scene of the crime where police are tirelessly trying to piece together the pieces of Ned Gerblanski, former Vietnam War Veteran and co-owner of Jimbo’s Guns, South Park’s beloved gun store. Jimbo Kern, the stores namesake, was apparently with his coworker during the attack but is, at current, unavailable for an interview.” 

The report continued but Kenny stopped paying attention. “Ned. Shit, man. I hope Jimbo’s okay.” Jimbo and Ned may not have been very open about their relationship but everyone in South Park knew they were a couple. “Do you think Stan’s heard?” 

“Arghh!” Tweek was panicking. “Do you think Craig’s – nngh!! – Craig’s okay? If that monster g-got Ned then – then – then… Ahhh!” Tweek was tugging at his hair. Kenny reached over to stop him. 

“Tweek. Tweek! Calm down, okay? Listen to me, I’m sure Craig’s fine but you can’t let yourself worry about him, okay? You can’t go back to that place.” Kenny took Tweek’s trembling hands in his own still, warm ones. “Promise me you won’t go back there?”

Tweek met Kenny’s eyes and twitched. “I’ll t-try,” he said finally.

“Good,” Kenny said. “Okay, I’m going to head out. There’s some thing’s I want to check out. Be careful on your way to work.” The taller blond looked very serious, which only succeeded in making Tweek all the more nervous. He re-grabbed at the hands that had been letting go of his. Kenny’s eyes softened. 

“South Park doesn’t – nngh! – need Mysterion right now.” 

“Tweek – ”

“I know - _gah_ ,” he spasmed violently, “that – that Mysterion was never a g-game to you, Kenny. I – I – I know that you still look out for this town. But, _gah_! This is too dangerous, Kenny! It’s too much pressure!” 

“You’re pretty observant, huh?” Kenny smiled warmly, squeezing Tweek’s hands. “Sometimes, at least,” he added under his breath. “Don’t worry, I’m always careful.”

“But – But…”

“I want to make sure South Park is safe for you and Karen.” Kenny released his hands and climbed to his feet. 

Tweek knew there was no point in arguing. He looked down at his hands and nodded. 

“If you see Craig – ”

“If I see Craig I’m going to punch him in his goddamn mouth.” 

Tweek looked up abruptly, stuttering a protest, but Kenny had already turned and left the room. 

He sighed and picked up his mug of coffee, nursing it between his trembling fingers. His mind was going at a thousand miles per hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about the wolf and Craig and Ned and Mysterion. It was all so horrible and terrifying and way too much to handle. 

Tweek wasn’t sure how he was meant to survive a day at work with all of that on his mind. Especially now that he was working single manning, having scared off Lizzie – if that even was her real name! The sooner his parents got back from their trip, the better. It was all just too much pressure! 

Tweek didn’t realise he was tugging at his hair again until he yelped out in pain. He had spilt coffee over his hands, adding yet another injury to their ever growing collection. He’d be more cuts and bruises than flesh soon enough. 

“Wahh! Jesus Christ! Oh Christ, oh Christ…” he moaned, putting down the mug and wiping his hands on his shirt. He really _was_ a hot mess. No wonder Craig had split – again! - the first chance he’d got last night. He’d probably been embarrassed to see that Tweek was just as dysfunctional as he’d been at ten. Maybe he even regretted saving his former boyfriend from the wolf. Even if that was the case, Tweek still hoped he was okay. 

The news had only reported Ned’s death but Tweek couldn’t silence the fear inside of himself. Craig had chased after the wolf and yet, less than an hour later, the wolf had apparently killed Ned. What if that had only happened because, before he’d been able to stop it, the wolf had torn Craig Tucker into shreds too? 

Tweek whimpered at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I killed off Ned. Sorry about that haha, not that he’s been anything more than a background character for years now. There’ll be mentions of another named dead character in a later chapter too, and, for those of you who’ve read the archive warnings, a major character death will eventually happen so you have that to look forward too, heh heh heh... But all that’s a while off so enjoy the ride.
> 
> This story will have more action and gore later. I’m worried it’s a bit slow right now but I don’t want to rush it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and I’ll be back in a couple of days with chapter 4 :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny calls a meeting and an unexpected guest shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of swearing and also brief mentions of self harm/suicide attempts.
> 
> My longest chapter yet :) Enjoy!

South Park police, useless as ever, hadn’t gotten round to doing anything more than covering Ned’s body with a sheet when Kenny arrived at the scene of the crime. That sheet was now stained crimson and had fluttered up slightly in the bitter wind, revealing the gruesome sight of a torso shredded so deeply that bones jutted through the ruined flesh. There was a throng of people hanging around just outside the police tape and, Kenny was disgusted to see, several of them held up phones, filming videos and taking photos. A couple were even trying to get selfies with the body in the background. 

He stormed over to the nearest selfie taker and gave him a hard shove. “Don’t be a fucking jerk,” he said. 

“Watch it, arsehole,” the guy snapped back. He had enough moral to look sheepish and slip his phone away, though. Kenny gave him one last glare and then walked off.

With the crowds and the police, there wasn’t a whole lot Kenny could do. He’d have to return later, under the cover of night, in his guise. For now, his sharp eyes scanned the crowds. If Craig was anywhere, Kenny would bet his arse – _there!_ He started pushing through the crowds, shoving his way towards where he had spotted the blue chullo. He lost sight of it as a fight broke out between two idiots trying to get a better view and, when he finally managed to push past them, Craig was gone. 

Kenny sighed. He’d search for him but he had a feeling it would be like looking for a damn needle in a haystack and Kenny just didn’t have the Goddamn patience for it. 

He got out his phone. 

_Get everyone at yours ASAP. Emergency. No Tweek. C U soon._

He sent the text to Token and, with one last scan of his surroundings, he hurried on his way to his friends apartment. 

 

Unsurprisingly, Kenny was the first to arrive. 

“What the hell, man?” Token demanded as he opened the door for him. He was bleary eyed and mid yawn. Kenny had almost forgotten it was only seven AM on a Sunday morning. “This better be fucking important.”

“It is,” Kenny said, making himself comfortable on Token’s couch. As soon as he sunk into its soft warmth he realised just how tired he was. It had been a long night. He gratefully accepted the coffee Token passed him, knowing that the caffeine boost would help him last at least another hour. 

Stan was the next to arrive and, from his appearance, it was obvious he had been awake for a while. 

“I’m sorry about Ned, dude,” Kenny said. 

“Ned?” Token asked. “What’s happened to Ned?”

Kenny shook his head. “I doubt the others have heard, either. Wait ‘till they arrive. I don’t have the energy to go through this shit more than once, man.” 

It took an hour and a half for everyone to arrive. Most of them were still half asleep. Kenny was damn glad that, while important, this conversation wasn’t time sensitive. They would be screwed by now if so. 

“What the fuck is this about, gay boy?” Cartman grumbled, rubbing at his eyes wearily. He had punched Kenny in the shoulder when he had arrived. Kenny stood, rubbing his shoulder and glaring daggers at his fatter friend. If looks could kill… 

“I think we’d all like to know that,” Kyle said. 

“Did any of you see the news this morning?” Kenny thought he’d start with the death of Ned and work his way up to giant wolves and Craig’s return. 

“I did,” Butters said. “Boy, that was sure gruesome, fellas.” Kenny gave the short blond a significant look and subtly nodded his head to Stan. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Why? What happened?” Kyle asked, looking between Kenny, Stan and Butters.

“Ned’s dead,” Stan said. “Ripped to shreds. I’ve been with Jimbo since four.” 

“Oh Jesus, Stan, I – ” Kyle cut off, looking down. Kenny frowned, wondering what had happened between the pair. They had been a couple for two years now and he hadn’t witnessed an awkwardness like this between the pair since before they had got together. 

“So what?” Cartman asked, ever the sensitive one. “You dragged me out of bed for that crap? You guys, I’m seriously – ”

“There’s more,” Kenny said. “They say on the news that it was a wolf. I think I saw the wolf last night. It attacked Tweek.”

“Shit!” Clyde said, tired eyes suddenly wide open and alert. “Is he okay?” Token nodded frantically in agreement, worried about his friend. 

“Do you think I’d be so calm if he wasn’t?” 

“He’s got a point there. Kenneh’s carrying a huge ass boner for the moron.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Cartman!” Kyle snapped. 

Cartman opened his mouth to retort but Stan snapped “Can you two just give it a fucking break?!” and Cartman shut his mouth again. 

“Aw, jeez, fellas,” Butters said, looking between them all. He looked like he wanted to say more, but they were all glaring at him so he fell silent. 

“So what else?” Token asked. “I know you didn’t wake us up at the arse-crack of dawn just for that. Not if Tweek’s okay.”

Kenny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was the part he was looking forward to the least. He didn’t know how everyone was going to react. He didn’t even know if they would be mad like he was. Clyde might but, while the others were friends with Tweek, they didn’t share the same bond with the anxious blond as they did. 

Before he could speak, however, there was a knock on the door. They all looked at one another, confused.

“You didn’t text anyone else, did you? Jimmy maybe?” 

“Jimmy’s not back for the holidays, dude,” Clyde said. He stood up, glancing at Token, who nodded, and walked to the door. They all watched, eager to see who it was disturbing their early morning meeting. 

“Holy shit, dude,” Clyde said as he opened the door. 

Holy shit, indeed. 

Craig Tucker stood in the doorway. He looked just as stoic and uninterested as he had at ten years old. He didn’t so much as smile at the seven gaping men in the room. 

“Ah, that was my other news,” Kenny said as the initial shook wore off. He got to his feet and walked calmly over to the door. 

“Kenny,” Craig said, nodding. 

“Craig,” Kenny said and then he punched Craig in the nose. 

“What the hell, Kenny?” Kyle was on his feet, rushing over to restrain the blond who looked like he was reading himself for another punch. 

“I deserved that,” Craig said nasally, rubbing his nose and drawing his hand away to see blood. 

“Damn straight you did,” Kenny growled. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Uh,” Token looked surprised and a little unsure but eventually he nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

“Oh man,” Cartman said eagerly, “this was so worth getting up for, you guys.”

“Shut it, fat ass.” 

“Goddamn Jew.”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan groaned, pinching his nose. 

“I see nothing’s changed,” Craig said, accepting the tissue Butters was handing him. He pressed it against his nose and turned to look at Kenny, still being held back by Kyle. “Are you going to punch me again?”

“I’m undecided.”

“Okay. Well, if you could warn me before you do it that would be great.”

“What are you doing here, Craig?” Kenny had his hood lowered and he ran an exasperated hand through his messy blond locks. 

“I just… I’m back and I wanted to see you guys.”

“Don’t you think there’s someone more important you should be seeing?”

“Uh… I thought it best if I spoke to you guys first.”

“Damn straight,” Kenny growled. “You stay away from Tweek.”

“Didn’t you just – ” Craig sighed and shook his head. 

“Why are you back, Craig?” Kenny asked.

“Yeah, Craig, why are you back?” Cartman joined in, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. 

“Look, why don’t we all sit down,” Token said, “and Craig can explain everything.”

“Actually,” Craig shifted on his feet, “I can’t really go into any details right now.”

“What the hell, man? You can’t give us nothing. Craig, I’m seriously. You need to give us some goddamn answers!” 

“Shut the hell up, Cartman!” Kyle snapped, before turning to Kenny. “If I let you go do you promise not to hit him again?”

“I promise not to hit him _yet_.”

“Good enough.” Kyle released him and Kenny rolled his shoulders, staring at Craig with a look that would burn a hole through his chest if it could. 

Everyone stared uneasily around the room for a moment, waiting for something to go wrong. When it didn’t, Token suggested they sit. Clyde took the two seater next to Craig in an obvious bodyguard move. He kept glancing at his ex best friend from the corner of his eye, an unreadable expression across his face. Kenny sighed, did they really think he was going to hulk out and kill Craig or something? 

“So, Craig, why don’t you tell us what you can,” Token said once they were all seated. “Why’d you vanish?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” Stan asked. 

“I just can’t.”

“Well how about why you left without saying goodbye? Not a note or anything. You didn’t answer any of our texts or anything, dude.” There was hurt in Kyle’s eyes as he said it. It may have been years ago and they may have all moved on, but confronted with their wayward friend was bringing back hurt they hadn’t felt in years. 

Craig lowered his gaze to his lap and the hands he was squirming together on it. “I didn’t want to leave, especially without saying goodbye. I – I tried to make contact but I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t?” Clyde raised a sceptical eyebrow. 

“I couldn’t,” Craig repeated firmly. 

“And now that you’re back,” Stan said, “do you plan to stay?”

“No,” Craig said. “I just… I need to fix something.”

“If it’s Tweek,” Kenny started to say but Craig cut over him.

“I didn’t come back for Tweek. I came back to fix a mistake, that’s it. If I could fix it and make things right with you all, though, that would make me so happy.”

“Yeah, well, little too late and all that,” Kenny grumbled. He was disappointed to see that the rest of his friends didn’t seem so certain. 

“I mean, dude, he was ten,” Kyle said in ways of explaining when Kenny sent him a look that screamed traitor. “We can’t stop our parents from pulling crap like that at that age.”

“It’s not the leaving I’m mad at, it’s the not getting in contact,” Kenny snapped. “You were all there! You all saw what it did to Tweek.”

The group of men lowered their heads, ashamed. Even Cartman looked a little troubled. Craig just looked confused.

“What about Tweek?” Craig wanted to know, a slight manic look about him. 

“Well, it’s just… he didn’t handle it very well, dude,” Stan said. 

“It was a fucking disaster,” Clyde said.

“ _He_ was a fucking disaster!”

“Cartman!”

“What?! He was. Oh fuck off, Jew!” 

“Don’t you two start at it again,” Stan snapped. Everyone looked up at the trio curiously but it was clear they would not be getting any form of an explanation any time soon. It didn’t matter, there were more important matters at hand right now. 

“Is somebody going to tell me what the fuck was wrong with Tweek?” 

“Do you really have any right to know?” Kenny was on his feet again, anger fuelling him. “You walked out without a goodbye, without even a fucking note! And if you were in that much of a fucking hurry then you could have phoned him later or texted or, I dunno, sent a goddamn email! He was your boyfriend!” Kenny was shouting, his face red with anger. Everyone watched wearily, not sure whether to interrupt or let Kenny have his say. Cartman seemed to be having the time of his life. He just needed a bowl of popcorn and that would be his day sorted. 

“Don’t you think I feel bad?” Craig snapped right back, also getting to his feet. “Don’t you think it hurt me, too?”

“Hurt you?” Kenny roared. “ _Hurt you_? Did you lock yourself away for months on end, refusing to even talk? Did you slice open your wrists and almost fucking die? Did you become dependent on drugs and eventually overdose on them? Did you walk around like a zombie for almost two years? Did your parents have to call the cops because they thought you’d run away only to find you hiding out in an abandoned house? Are you an anxious, twitchy, terrified wreck of a human being right now?”

Craig stood, numb, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open a little even though no words were escaping it. His gaze dropped from Kenny and he flopped down on sofa again, his head in his hands. “Oh Christ,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” Kenny said, his anger softening a little. “You’re a cunt.” 

“Heh heh, yeah, you cunt,” Cartman echoed, laughing. Kyle whacked his shoulder. “Ouch, goddamn it, Jew!” 

“That’s it,” Stan said, standing. “I’m out. Craig, I’m glad you’re back or whatever, but Jimbo needs me right now.” With that he walked out of the apartment, ignoring his boyfriend (if Kyle was still his boyfriend, Kenny wasn’t too sure) yelling his name after him. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Clyde asked. Kyle and Cartman exchanged a look but didn’t answer.

Kenny shrugged and turned back to Craig, who was still hiding his face. “Look, I’m grateful for you saving Tweek last night but I think you should stay away from him from now.”

“And what if Tweek wants to see Craig?” Butters asked. He smiled sheepishly at the look Kenny sent him. “Oh jeez, I’m just saying that, well, perhaps Tweek might want to talk to Craig, is all. Maybe it will do him good. Now, I know that you’ve been there for him through everything, Kenny, and we can’t fault you for knowing what’s best for Tweek but, oh hamburgers…” He started nervously twisting his thumbs together, his cheeks a little red. “In this case I think you’re wrong.”

“Do you all think this?” Kenny asked frostily. 

“Well, man, I mean, Tweek’s not your possession or anything,” Clyde said a little awkwardly. 

“I think it’d be good for Tweek,” Token chipped in. “Get some closure, you know?” 

“Kyle?” Kenny asked, staring at the redhead. Kyle bit his lip, unsure. Eventually, he nodded.

“I think they should talk.”

“If this sets Tweek back a few years then I’m blaming all of you morons,” Kenny fumed, walking over to the door. He paused, his hand on the handle, his back to them. “Fine! If you’re going to talk to Tweek, do it, but be prepared for it to be a fucking disaster.” 

He opened the door. 

“Hey, doesn’t anybody want to know my opinion? Guys? No?” Everyone ignored Cartman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some proper Craig screen time! But still no answers. I tried to keep everyone as in character as possible but if they weren’t, my excuse is that it’s been nine years haha.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated and I shall see you in a couple of days - hopefully - with another update :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing progress is slowing a little now (it was bound to happen sooner or later) but I’m still thinking about this fic all the time and trying to write at least 1000 words daily so hopefully I’ll power through. You guys have no idea how nice it is to be enjoying writing. The last thing I wrote was a serious chore and omg, I hated every minute. This my not be my best work, and is mostly unedited (apologise for any mistakes I miss) but I love this story so much, so thank you for enjoying it with me :)

Tweek wasn’t sure how he got through the day. He jumped at every noise, every shadow. He kept expecting the wolf to show up again to finish the job and he kept wondering whether Craig would be there to save him again. On multiple occasions he screamed at customers when they surprised him, earning disgruntled grumbles and no tips. 

It was a long, horrible day. 

Somehow he made it home in one piece. He flopped down on the sofa and ran a hand through his messy blond hair, yanking on the wayward strands in an attempt to calm himself. 

Nine years ago, when he was ten and dating Craig, Tweek had been certain that by the time he was an adult he would no longer have any issues. Craig had been fixing him, making him better, making him _normal_. He had certainly started to become calmer. Tweek had thought, as a late teenager, he would have no more anxiety, no more awkward twitches and no more panic attacks. Instead, nowadays, he was worse. Not only a little worse, either. There were plenty of days when Tweek couldn’t even bring himself to leave the house. Leaving the house could be dangerous. It could result in him being hurt or even killed. Somebody was always watching. Always waiting. Sometimes, even leaving his bed was too much. 

These days it was Kenny who calmed him. Kenny who dragged him out of the house with promises that everything would be alright. Sometimes, though, Tweek still found himself wishing it was Craig. Even after all these years, nobody had come even remotely close in making him feel as safe as Craig had. 

And then Craig had ruined it. 

Tweek stared at the scars on his arms for a long moment. He’d managed to hide the fresher ones from Kenny. He knew it was bad, knew he shouldn’t do it, but sometimes – sometimes it was the only thing that helped. 

Today felt like one of those days. 

Tweek moved robotically through the house, to his bedroom. The room hadn’t chanced much since he was ten. Tweek didn’t really care about things enough to warrant putting a stamp on the room. It was just a place to sleep. A place to hide. A place to dive under the covers when the world became too much. 

He went to his desk draw and rooted through it, finding the little box hidden at the back. He opened it tantalisingly slowly, his breath hitched. The blade that sat, lonely, in the box was impossibly clean. Tweek made his hands sore after each slip cleaning it. It was a ritual of sorts. A punishment. He had to punish himself for hurting himself by hurting even more. 

He picked up the little blade to inspect it.

“If you want to die, I can be of assistance.”

Tweek screamed and dropped the blade. It fell somewhere into his carpet, vanishing from sight. 

Tweek had been so absorbed with his mission he hadn’t even noticed the man lounging on his bed. He didn’t know him; Tweek was certain he’d never seen him before although there was definitely something familiar about him. He was perhaps mid-twenties, with rugged good looks and a dangerous twinkle in his golden eyes. Golden eyes so unnatural and yet so familiar. 

“W-w-w-w-who are you?” Tweek stuttered, wide eyed and trembling. He wished he still held his tiny blade. At least that would have been some form of a weapon. He shifted on his feet, eyes scanning the floor for any kind of a glint. A sharp pain in his foot helped him locate the blade, and a bead of blood formed on the carpet. 

The man ignored him and stood up. Tweek was tall but this man was taller. Tweek was scrawny and skinny, this man was broad and muscular. 

“You’ve stolen something of mine,” the man said finally. “I want it back.”

“I – nngh! – I, I, I haven’t taken anything! I don’t even know you!” 

“You might not be aware of having taken it, but took it you did,” the man said mysteriously and took another step closer. Tweek stepped back, crashing into his desk. He looked around in a panic, then quickly bent down and fumbled around for the blade. The man laughed and, before Tweek could straighten out, he kicked him under the chin, sending the blond reeling backwards into wood. Tweek flopped, tasting blood and feeling dazed. 

Disorientated, Tweek watched as blood dripped from his palm. He couldn’t understand why he was bleeding there, when it was his head that felt like it was going to explode. He opened his clenched fist to realise that he had successfully picked up his tiny blade, only to squeeze his hand around it when the foot had collided with his chin. 

The stranger casually crouched down, squatting so that he was eye level with Tweek. He waited patiently for Tweek’s dazed eyes to clear. 

“I take no kind of pleasure from this,” he said and then frowned. “No, wait, I promised myself no more lies.” He smiled wickedly and took a fistful of Tweek’s hair. “I take _all_ kinds of pleasure from this.” He slammed Tweek’s head back, hard, against the desk. 

Tweek vision darkened. He could see the outline of the man, still smiling at him, but he couldn’t focus on him. He tried to raise his hand, to use his measly weapon but he had no strength. He barely felt it as a fist collided with his chin.

 _I’m going to die,_ he realised. He was going to be murdered in his own house by a stranger with familiar eyes. Eyes he’d seen recently, he was sure. He just couldn’t think where…

Everything was fading; his vision growing too dark to see, his ears ringing with too much static to hear. The man would definitely land the finishing blow soon and that would be that. Tweek would be dead. 

He wondered who would find him. Probably not his parents. They weren’t due back for another few days. No, it would probably be a concerned friend. Most likely Clyde or Kenny. He felt bad for them having to discover him, beaten to a bloody mess and holding the blade he promised them he’d thrown away.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” 

_I know,_ Tweek thought, _you’re nearly there. No need to rub it in._

As unconsciousness claimed him, Tweek thought he heard his name being called out. He tried to reach out, to cling onto something to stop his falling. His arms were weak and useless, they couldn’t save him, couldn’t stop him. He was falling and tumbling and spiralling through endless darkness with only one destination: death. 

 

There was something cold and damp on his forehead. Beads of cool water trickled down his face, tickling his cheeks. Tweek wrinkled his face and groaned as the pain hit him. It took him a moment to remember what had happened and, when it came back, he wished he had just died. At least he wouldn’t be in pain then. At least his head wouldn’t throb so.

“Tweek?” The voice was full of concern and was startlingly familiar. Slightly nasally and deep. Craig. 

“Ow,” he managed to say. Even that one syllable hurt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Craig was saying. Why was he sorry? He hadn’t beaten Tweek within an inch of his life. Tweek tried to open his eyes and, after a few minutes of failed attempts, managed to crack them enough to see blurry outlines. The light blinded him, making his headache all the worse but he prevailed. 

He lay still, blinking up at the ceiling for a few minutes. He could see Craig staring, worry creasing his face but for now, Tweek ignored him. Right now, blocking out the pain enough to speak was all that mattered. 

“Pain killers,” he managed to whisper eventually. “Bathroom.” Craig nodded and was up in a flash. Tweek wondered whether he remembered where the bathroom was and, judging by how quickly he returned, he did. 

Tweek swallowed the pills, and the water that followed, and then laid still, concentrating on his breathing. After what could have been five minutes or thirty, he finally felt able to face the world. He struggled to push himself upright, noticing that he was on his bed. The cold flannel fell into his chest and he reached tentatively for it, his arm aching and sluggish. 

He sought out Craig’s blue eyes, still so familiar to him despite the years apart. His voice was weak but steady when he said “You’re here.”

“Of course,” Craig said. 

“You saved me?” Craig nodded solemnly. “The m-man?”

“Escaped.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tweek rolled his head back and sighed heavily. The man being out there somewhere, free, was just another thing to panic about. He already had a long enough list. Goddamnit. 

“H-how is it you keep showing up just when I n-need you?” Tweek asked quietly. First when the wolf attacked and now with this stranger in his house. Craig had been a no show for nine years and was now suddenly, _what?_ Tweek’s knight in shining fucking armour? 

“I was coming round to see you,” Craig said with a small shrug. “I smelt… I mean, something suspicious seemed to be happening so I let myself in. Just in time, too. He was about to stamp on your head when I pulled him off you.”

Tweek scrutinised Craig. “You’re not injured.”

“I know how to defend myself.”

“A-apparently.”

“I didn’t know whether to take you to a hospital or not,” Craig said, changing the subject. “I wasn’t sure if you’d appreciate waking up there.”

Damnit. Why did Craig have to know him so well even now? A hospital was the last thing Tweek wanted right now. All those people, all that fussing… it would be a nightmare!

“T-thanks. I’d rather be here.”

“I thought as much.” A beat. “I found the blade you were holding.”

Tweek looked down. He couldn’t meet Craig’s eyes. It was obvious what the blade had been for. It was far too small to be anything else. 

“I’m sorry I left.” Tweek looked up again, surprised. Wait, he wasn’t getting a lecture? No ‘you shouldn’t hurt yourself’ rant? Craig looked troubled but not angry. 

“Why _did_ you leave?” Tweek’s voice was so quiet he was surprised Craig heard him. 

“I didn’t have a choice.” 

“You did have a choice to contact me, though.”

“It wasn’t safe.”

“Why?” Tweek demanded, his voice growing stronger. He realised his eyes were watering and he blinked repeatedly, trying to force back the tears. 

“Not now.” Craig shook his head. “I don’t have time. Your phone passcode is the same as it was when you were ten,” he sounded both amused and annoyed. Tweek’s eyes sought out his phone sitting on the bedside table.

“What did you do?”

“I texted Kenny. He’ll be here any minute and I think it’s best if I wasn’t here when he arrived.”

“But – ”

“I’ll contact you soon.”

“Where are you staying?” 

Craig shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll see you soon, okay? And don’t worry. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything.” He turned to leave. 

“What about me?” Tweek asked quietly. Craig froze, not turning back to face Tweek. He stood there for a moment and Tweek was certain he saw his shoulders tremble. Eventually, he left the room without giving Tweek an answer. 

His silence said everything. Some things were too damaged to be fixed. Some things… like Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot apologise enough for this chapter. Tweek is precious and needs to be wrapped in a blanket and protected at all costs but... well, he’s just NOT going to be able to catch a break in this fic and it breaks my evil heart haha.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last chapter was so indiscreet I’m pretty sure you all know where this is going now haha! Thanks, as always, for Kudos and comments. I’m really happy that you’re sticking with this story and enjoying it :)

“Tweek?” The frantic yell that accompanied the front door flying open was enough to calm Tweek’s momentarily sudden fear that the man with golden eyes was back to finish the job. That voice had become so familiar to him over the past few years that he recognised it better than he knew his own. 

Kenny was up the stairs and in his bedroom in a heartbeat. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the state of his friend. Tweek groaned and turned his head away, feeling suddenly ashamed by the state he’d managed to land himself in. There was Kenny, going out at night dressed as Mysterion, protecting South Park with no fear to his own safety and then there was Tweek, getting the shit beat out of him in his own house. What a failure at life he was. 

“What the fuck happened?” Kenny all but growled, moving over to sit on the bed and gently poke and prod at the bruising on Tweek’s face. “Are you okay? Who did this?”

Tweek went to answer but stopped as he spotted another person standing awkwardly in his doorway. Butters Stotch smiled weakly at him, his eyes full of concern. The pair were friends, sure, but not so much that Butters would come running like Kenny or Clyde, or maybe even Token, would in such a situation. The only explanation was that Butters had been with Kenny when he’d gotten the text. Tweek wondered what they’d been talking about. His paranoia couldn’t help but wonder if it had been him. 

“Jeez, Tweek. Well, you look like you should be in a hospital bed,” Butters said, stepping into the room a little hesitantly. 

“Why _aren’t_ you?” Kenny demanded, nodding his head in agreement with the other blond boy. 

“Jesus Christ, Ken! You k-know how I – _nngh_! – feel about hospitals.” Tweek couldn’t help but recall how Craig had known straight away that a hospital was the last place he’d want to be. 

“But you could have internal bleeding or – ” Kenny cut off as Butters laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sure Tweek is fine,” Butters said firmly. “Aren’t you, Tweek?”

“Y-yes, I am! Thank you, Butters.” 

Kenny seemed to deflate a little. He ran a hand through his hair and Tweek noticed for the first time just how tired Kenny looked. It wasn’t a tiredness from staying up all night with Tweek last night but a tiredness from staying up all night a lot. 

“So, Tweek, what happened?” Butters asked, smiling kindly. Despite his childhood alter-ego, Professor Chaos, Butters didn’t have a bad bone in his body. He was _too_ nice. It could be a little infuriating sometimes. Right now, however, Tweek found himself glad for the shorter boys presence. He seemed able to calm Kenny in a way Tweek couldn’t.

“T-there was somebody in my house,” Tweek said, twitching furiously at the memory. He wrung his hands together. “He said I’d… I’d t-taken something from him. S-said he wanted it ba-GAH!” Butters had leant against the chest of drawers and accidentally knocked something over with a loud thud. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. 

“Well, what did you take?” Kenny demanded turning away from Butters with a disapproving shake of his head. 

“Jesus Christ, I dunno!” Tweek tugged at his hair and was unsurprised when Kenny restrained his hands.

“So who was he? Did you recognise him?”

“N-no.”

“Well, was this a warning or do you think he’ll come back?” Kenny’s blue eyes were wide and frantic and Tweek found himself wanting to sooth and calm his friend rather than the other way round. Telling the truth right now certainly wouldn’t do any good. Kenny would never leave his side again. And Tweek needed Kenny to leave his side if he ever wanted to track down Craig. 

“He won’t be back,” Tweek said certainly and, in his lie, he found that he didn’t stutter once. 

 

Kenny and Butters stayed for hours, cleaning Tweek up, making endless mugs of coffee and supplying endless (but overly sensible) amounts of painkillers. Occasionally they’d have hushed conversations, their heads bowed together just out of earshot of Tweek. It reminded Tweek of when he’d taken all the pills. Back then his parents had watched over him as if he would vanish forever if they took their eyes off him for even a second. Back then then had craned their heads together to have hushed conversations that Tweek couldn’t quite hear. 

Now it was the same game but just with different players. 

“How are you doing, fella?” 

“Fine,” Tweek groaned. He ached all over and his head killed but there was no way in hell he was going to admit any of that for fear that Kenny would drag him by his ankles to the hospital. 

“Good.” Butters smile was so genuine that it made Tweek feel bad for lying. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m trying to convince Kenny to leave. He has his night job to get to and he needs some sleep, he’s dead on his feet, poor fella.”

“N-no, that’s fine!” Tweek felt relief wash over him at the suggestion. “He should g-go. You both should. I’m fine. Look at me, I’m fine.”

“Well, I mean, I’d hardly call you fine,” Butters said. 

“Fine enough,” Tweek argued. 

Butters glanced over his shoulder, checking for Kenny but the taller blond was in the kitchen, making yet more coffee. “You want us to leave, don’t you?”

“N-no fucking s-shit, S-Sherlock,” Tweek stuttered. “I’m tired, too, you know. Jesus Christ, having you two tiptoe around is too much pressure! _Gahh!_ ”

“Well, jeez,” Butters looked down sheepishly, “I don’t mean to be an inconvenience.” Great, now Tweek felt guilty. 

“No, it’s not that,” he protested. “I mean… it is but, _gah_!” Tweek didn’t know what to say or how to fix this situation in the ideal way. He wanted Kenny and Butters to leave but he didn’t want to risk his friendship with them doing it. He didn’t have many friends as it was. He was pretty certain Eric, Stan and Kyle were only around because of Kenny. Sometimes he even wondered whether Token wanted out, too. Kenny and Clyde were the only two he knew for certain gave a damn. Pushing them away was not advisable. As was pushing Butters away if he was extending an olive branch. 

Even still, despite knowing this… 

“I’ll be fine,” Tweek lied. “I’m just going to lock all door and windows and sleep. Make Kenny leave.” 

Butters regarded him for a long moment. “Well, okay,” he said finally. “I’ll speak to him again, see what I can do.”

 

Butters was a bloody miracle worker. Kenny hadn’t liked it one bit but he’d allowed the smaller man to drag him away and allow Tweek time to ‘recuperate in peace’. Tweek didn’t know how he’d done it but he reminded himself to buy Butters a large packet of coffee in thanks later. That, or flowers. Tweek really wasn’t sure what an appropriate thank you gift was. 

After they were gone, Tweek hauled himself out of bed. He had work to do. 

Moving his body was slow, painful and awkward. He had to walk hunched over just to cease the agony in his ribs. Each step caused more pain than the last, his body begging him to sit down, to take it easy. He ignored it. 

Tweek’s first stop was his mirror. He’d seen the winces on Craig, Kenny and Butters faces when they’d seen him but he hadn’t actually inspected the damage himself. He was a goddamn mess. His left eye was purple and almost sealed closed. His bottom lip was huge, a large, painful cut down its centre. There was bruising from his chin all the way to his forehead. Unbuttoning his shirt with shaking hands, Tweek inspected his bruised chest. He was almost entirely ugly shades of purples and greens. Some bruises were so dark they were almost black. 

“Oh Christ,” he whispered, tentatively touching his ribs and hissing in pain. 

He incorrectly buttoned up his shirt again and then went on a mission to find where Kenny had hidden the pain meds. They were in a high kitchen cupboard, hidden behind the cereal. Straining his sore body to reach them brought tears to his eyes. Tweek swallowed five pills at once. 

He gave the pills fifteen minutes to kick in and then tugged on a jacket and some shoes, not realising that they were odd. Outside, it was dark as sin and so cold his breath seemed to freeze on his lips. He trudged slowly through snow, wincing with each step. He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t have a clue where to start searching. All Tweek knew was that he had to find Craig. It was all that was important. All that mattered. Tweek didn’t care that it hurt to move, that it hurt to breathe. That wasn’t important. Only Craig was important. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Ahhh!” Tweek yelled out and spun around, almost falling. He winced as the movement sent stabbing pains through his ribs. 

Craig stood, arms folded, scowling at him in the darkness. Craig. The very person he had wanted to find. 

“Were you w-watching me?” Tweek asked. 

“Yes,” Craig said in monotone, his face expressionless.

“Oh.” Tweek didn’t know what to say to that. 

“You should be in bed.” Craig sighed and took a step forward. He looked ready to support Tweek’s weight back to his house. Tweek pushed away from him. 

“I’m not some f-frail little kid who needs – _nngh!_ – pr-pr-protection!”

“I didn’t say you were.” Craig pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Y-yeah, well you were thinking it.” Craig smiled at that. It was a ghost of a smile, but it warmed Tweek enough that he momentarily forgot he was standing outside in the bitter cold nights air. “Where are you staying?” He’d thought Craig’s old house to begin with but then Tweek had remembered that a new family had been living there for at least two years now. And a different family had lived there before them. The house hadn’t been empty for long after the Tucker’s abandoned it. 

Craig sighed again. “Is it really that important for you to know?”

“Yes.”

“Come on then, I’ll take you there.” 

They moved slowly thanks to Tweek’s injuries. Craig remained patient, never once complaining. He wouldn’t answer any of Tweek’s breathless questions either, though, and eventually Tweek stopped asking. It hurt too much to walk and talk anyway. Besides, he figured they’d have plenty of time for questions and answers when they reached wherever the hell it was they were going.

Craig led him past Stark’s Pond and through the forest. Tweek only realised their destination minutes before the old, rusted gates came into view. 

“This place?”

“This place,” Craig nodded, opening the gates to the old Genetic Engineering Ranch. “It’s been abandoned for a few years, ever since Dr. Mephesto died.”

“They say it’s h-haunted,” Tweek said, nervously following Craig up the steep hill, all the while silently wishing that he’d let Craig take him home. His nervous gaze kept flickering to the haunting building silhouetted at the top of the hill. Christ – if they were going to die anywhere tonight then it would be that building. Tweek was sure of it! Oh God, oh Jesus… what were they doing?! They were going to die. They were going to be eaten by ghosts and die!

“The place is damn creepy, that’s for sure,” Craig agreed. “Haunted, though?” He shook his head but didn’t outright deny it. Tweek gulped loudly. 

The trek to the front doors was a struggle for Tweek, his bruised ribs protesting painfully and the cruel winters winds trying their damn best to push him back down the hill, almost as if they were warning him away, protecting him from the gruesome death that waited for him inside. Craig, oblivious to their horrible fate inside the cursed building, was patient and helpful and finally – _finally_ – they made it inside and out of the unforgiving winds. 

Inside was a disaster of thick, lung clogging dust (Tweek started coughing and then couldn’t stop) and shards of broken glass. Upturned equipment was strewn across the place and graffiti decorated every wall. Dr Mephesto died four years earlier and it seemed the residents of South Park had decided it was best just to forget about the old place and leave it to rot. 

Gaining control over his heavy choking and clutching his ribs against the painful throbbing his coughing fit had induced, Tweek briefly wondered what had happened to Kevin, the little monkey guy who had been Mephesto’s adoptive son or something. The rumours were he still lived somewhere in the lab. Probably lying in wait to horribly murder anyone who dared disturb the old building. He asked Craig if he’d seen him. 

“If he’s still here he keeps well hidden.” Craig shrugged. “I don’t really care either way as long as he leaves me alone.” Tweek cared. He didn’t want either of them to be killed by the tiny man. 

“Gahh! Why are you staying here?” 

“Good a place as any. Come on, there’s a sofa in reasonable condition just a little further in.” The dark haired man led Tweek through a maze of corridors until they finally found the sofa he had referred to. Tweek sat down heavily, groaning loudly and clutching his ribs as he did so. Craig looked worried but didn’t say anything. 

They sat in silence for a long while, neither one seemingly able to be the first to speak. Tweek had questions that Craig didn’t want to answer and Craig had answers that Tweek didn’t want to hear. 

The room was dark, lit only by a couple of candles that Craig had used a lighter on while Tweek was positioning himself into as comfortable position as he could manage. The candles cast flickering, ominous shadows in the large, derelict building and Tweek was reminded of the hungry shadows that seemed to be following him around recently. A lot of creepy shit had been happening recently. All since Craig had returned. He tried not to dwell on it but the warnings ringing in his head were so damn loud and persistent! It took all of his strength not to clamp his hands over his ears and continuously scream until he could no longer hear them. 

Finally, when the silence was becoming so loud it was almost deafening, Craig uttered two little words in a childlike and fearful voice, so unlike himself. “I’m sorry.”

Tweek jumped, his left eye twitching as he tried to make sense of Craig’s words and of his tone. “Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Why did you?” It seemed wrong to speak in anything more than whispers in this terrifying place. 

“I didn’t want to get you involved. Fuck. I didn’t want to tell you any of this!” Craig said, not answering the question. He seemed frustrated, angry even, a stark contrast from the boy who never seemed to lose his cool. Despite his obvious frustration, even more obvious was that it was not directed at Tweek. His blue eyes softened every time they flickered towards the smaller man. 

“I’m guessing I’m involved now,” Tweek said quietly. The very thought terrified him out of his wits. 

Craig looked at him sadly and didn’t deny it. 

Tweek watched him silently, watched how the candles cast ever changing shadows on his high cheekboned face. The only movement between them was Tweek’s occasionally twitches. They were few and far between, though, and he realised that around Craig he was calmer, his words smoother. Just like when they were ten. As if nothing had changed, as if no time had passed. Tweek smiled a little as he realised that and then his smile morphed into a frown. A thought occurred to him. An impossible thought that both didn’t make sense and made all the sense in the world at the same time. 

He thought he’d finally figured it out; the thing he’d taken from the man with golden eyes. 

It was Craig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yup, that other named character I mentioned who would be dead is Mephesto. From now on, any deaths that occurs in this story should actually feature (and will, no doubt, be fairly bloody)
> 
> In other news, I’ve started working on a Bunny fic, because apparently one fic is just not enough pressure for me haha. I’ve not started posting it yet because I’m not sure where it’s going or if my idea will work but I will keep you updated if anything developed of it. I love the idea, despite it being a bit screwed up and full of torture. It features Kenny, Mysterion, Princess Kenny, Butters, Marjorine and Professor Chaos, with overall dark themes and mental instability (hence the many alias of the same people.) If that tickles your fancy let me know and I’ll do my best to fully figure it out so that I can start posting it :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? Another chapter already?

_You can’t keep ignoring me, Stan._

_Please let’s talk?_

_I said I was sorry._

_It was years ago. Please Stan, I need u._

_I’m sorry._

Stan stared blankly at the texts that filled his inbox. His phone slipped out of his hold and whacked him on the face. He swore, but otherwise didn’t react, letting the phone slide off his face and onto the bed beside him. 

He didn’t want to deal with Kyle right now. He had too much on his plate. College was taking its toll on him, his uncle Jimbo was a wreck right now and _now_ , the icing on the cake, Craig was back. It was true, perhaps, that Stan and Craig hadn’t been the closest of friends but their circles had mingled together enough that it had still stung when he’d left without a word. And, after Craig left, their circles merged completely and Craig’s friends became Stan’s friends and their heartbreak became his concern. 

He sighed, rubbing his head where the phone had struck him. Stan didn’t want to deal with Kyle right now but there were others that he should be making an effort with. Clyde, for example, had looked shocked and hurt when Craig had turned up at Token’s and yet nobody had asked him if he was okay. They had all been concerned with Tweek and his mental health and had forgotten that Clyde had been Craig’s best friend and had been just as upset and betrayed by his best friend vanishing. 

Stan rolled over to his side and picked up his phone. 

_U ok?_

Clyde text back almost instantly. _Not really._

_Raisins?_

_C u in 20._

Stan opened his texts from Kyle again, started writing out a reply to the most recent, and then deleted it all. He really couldn’t be dealing with Kyle right now. So he’d deal with Clyde instead.

“Are you going out?” His mom poked her head around the kitchen door as he bound down the stairs. She looked a little disappointed and Stan remembered he’d said he’d probably be in for dinner. They were having Jimbo round and his parents had made a big thing about them all being there to support him. 

“Yeah, um, it shouldn’t take long,” he said uncertainly. “I’ll try and make dinner.”

“Okay then. Shelly said she’d be round for seven so if you can let me know before that?”

“Will do. Sorry, mom.” 

“Will Kyle be with you?” Sharon asked, popping back up as if the thought had only just occurred to her. 

“No,” Stan said, this time sounding certain. Sharon frowned but didn’t press. She gave her son a brief smile and then ducked back into the kitchen. Stan hesitated at the front door, suddenly overcome with an urge to confide in his mother, to tell her everything that was going on in his life right now. He shook that urge away. Clyde would be waiting for him. 

 

Raisins Diner never changed. Sure, the girls who worked there varied as they moved on to bigger and better things, but they were all generic pretty girls and Stan couldn’t tell the difference between them. Back when they’d been little kids, it had seemed to only be preteens who worked in the restaurant. That had changed when the boys were around twelve and complaints started to flood in that it wasn’t appropriate to have such young girls dressed so skimpily and flirting for tips. Now a days, the youngest Raisin girl looked to be about sixteen. 

Of course, Clyde knew each one by name. _Of course_ he did. Stan found him sitting at the bar, flirting with a gorgeous red head. Stan only thought of Kyle when he saw her, although Kyle’s hair was a much nicer shade of red. 

“There he is!” Clyde cheered. Stan frowned as he approached, noticing the beer in front of his friend. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No!”

“Is he drunk?” Stan asked the red head. She shrugged, smiling brightly.

“It’s his first drink here, sweetie.” Stan noticed the way she worded it suggested that he’d been drinking somewhere else first. Clyde was known for carrying around a fake ID and South Park was notorious for not giving a shit. Stan doubted the Raisin girl had even asked to see his ID when she’d served him. 

Stan took a seat next to his brunette friend. “Just a coke, please,” he told the red head. 

“Coming right up, Sweetie.”

“So. Craig, huh? Bit of a shock, right?” 

“He’s a cunt,” Clyde grumbled into his drink as he took a swig. “Didn’t say a word to apologise to me. We were best friends, man.”

“I’m sure he’s just got a lot on his plate…” Stan wasn’t sure why he was defending Craig. He expected it had more to do with making Clyde feel better than with helping out an old acquaintance, though. 

Stan’s coke was slipped in front of him accompanied by some kind of flirty comment to enjoy. He paid the red head no attention and was vaguely aware of her huff slightly as she walked away. Raisin girls got their best tips from people they managed to put under their spell. People like Clyde. 

“Whatever.” Clyde took another swig of his beer. “Let’s not talk about that asshole right now. Dude, what’s up with you and Kyle? Didn’t think you two would ever leave the honeymoon stage.”

Stan groaned but he’d known this would happen. His friends just couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s business. He took a sip of his coke but it was no good. Flagging over the waitress again he asked for a beer. He didn’t think he could face talking about Kyle out loud without one. 

“‘Atta boy,” Clyde cheered. “So, come on. Dish the dirt, man. What’ve Kyle and Eric done to piss you off?” 

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, took a swig of beer and began talking. 

 

Mysterion stared at the police tape fluttering in the wind. Under the cover of darkness he finally felt free to search for clues. Would he find anything, though? Was there even anything to find? Maybe it was a straight forward animal attack after all. 

He thought back to the wolf he’d seen the previous night. Even from a distance it had been too large… too intelligent. No, there was something else to this case that the police weren’t seeing. There better be. He was blowing off his night job for this. 

Crouching under the police tape, Mysterion’s sharp eyes scanned the area. Blood still stained the path, a lot of blood, black and congealed against the pavement. There wasn’t a lot else to see, though. Any wolf hairs he might of found would have long since blown away. Beside’s, what was he meant to do if he found a hair? The genetics lab would have been his best bet but that closed down years ago. 

Mysterion groaned. What was he doing? He was wasting time, that was what. It’s wasn’t like wolf was going to return to the scene of the crime or anythi- 

_Crash_

His eyes narrowed. Logic told him it was a coincidence but sense said otherwise. Keeping to the shadows he moved over to the trash cans hidden by the gloom of the dark alleyway and the cloudy nights sky. 

“What are you, some kind of superhero?” Mysterion tensed, turning slowly. A man lounged casually against a nearby wall, a cigarette in hands. Logically Mysterion must have walked straight past him but he knew he hadn’t. The man had simply appeared. There was no other option. Mysterion didn’t miss things like that. 

“Something like that,” Mysterion replied in his deepest voice. 

“A little too old to be playing dress up, aren’t you?” The man smiled and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall, flicking the butt to the ground. Mysterion watched it fall with tight eyes and even tighter lips. 

“South Park police are useless. Somebody need’s to protect this town.” 

“Protect it from what?” the man asked. Mysterion stared at him. He was perhaps twenty-five, tall with broad shoulders but no more muscular than himself. He was handsome but there was something about him that unnerved the vigilante. Perhaps it was his eyes, almost golden and virtually glowing in the dark alleyway. There was something else about them too, something predatory, something _dangerous._

“People like you,” Mysterion replied finally. 

The mans smile was eerie. “Perhaps you are a superhero after all.” 

Mysterion clenched his fists, balling them by his side as the man stepped closer. Mysterion was a little shorter, but there wasn’t much in it. He could take this stranger. He hadn’t exactly been sitting around idly all these years; Mysterion knew how to fight. 

“What are you doing here?” Mysterion asked gruffly, still standing his ground. The man was directly in front of him now and when he spoke it was with a pleasant tone, as if simply asking about the weather. 

“I’m looking for Craig. Have you seen him?”

Mysterion didn’t skip a heartbeat. “Who’s Craig?”

“Nice try.” The man smirked and then brought forward his head, moving so quickly that Mysterion wasn’t able to roll back on his heels fast enough to completely miss the blow. It struck his chin. 

Too fast, the man brought his leg round, knocking into the backs of Mysterion’s knees, making him stagger. Mysterion braced himself against the wall, using the momentum to kick himself up into a flip and come to a stand behind his attacker. Before the stranger could turn, Mysterion had him in a headlock, kicking out his feet from underneath him while keeping a strong arm across his windpipe. They both fell to their knees, the golden eyed man’s hands pushing against Mysterion’s face, trying to break his hold. His fingers found Mysterion’s mask and travelled to his eyes, pushing down against them. The vigilante grit his teeth against the pain, trying to pull his head away whilst not relinquishing his vice-like grip on his attacker. 

The man seemed to be weakening in his hold, and Mysterion took his chance to readjust his headlock. His grip slackened for less than a second but the stranger was fast. _Too fast._ In that second of slackened grip, he yanked Mysterion’s head down with surprising force, slamming it into the ground. Breathing a little heavily as he regained the breath he had lost in the chokehold, he flipped himself up onto Mysterion’s back, his knee digging into the top of his spine. 

“You fight okay, kid,” the man said in his ear, his breath hot against flesh. Mysterion squirmed but couldn’t unpin himself. “Not many people I fight last more than a few seconds. You maybe made it two minutes, it almost makes me wanna spare you.”

“You bastard,” Mysterion growled, still struggling against the weight holding him down. “You hurt Tweek.”

“I wasn’t given a choice,” the man said. “None of this had to happen. You have Craig to blame for it all.”

Mysterion felt the pressure lessen against his back. Before he could take advantage of it, a hard boot slammed into his ribs. There was a loud snap. He gasped out at the contact, tasting blood on his tongue. He rolled over, looking skywards. The man loomed over him, a little blurry as Mysterion tried to control his breathing. 

He could still win this. He had to…

“You’ve got spirit,” the man said as he watched Mysterion try to pull himself upright. “Tell you what, if you can land a punch on me, I’ll let you live. Here,” he extended his hand, “I’ll even help you up.” 

Mysterion stared sceptically at the hand before accepting it. He didn’t trust the man for one minute, but what did he have to lose, really? He grit his teeth against the pain as he was hauled to his feet, his free hand pressing against his broken ribs. 

Apparently true to his word, the man simply stood, arms to his side, a small smile pressing against his thin lips. He appeared to be waiting for Mysterion to make a move. Mysterion didn’t want to disappoint. 

Simply going for a punch would be too obvious. Mysterion had to do something clever. His breath was hitched and he was dizzy from pain, though. It had been a while since he had been this injured. South Park had been fairly quiet as of late. 

“I don’t have all day, kid.”

Mysterion feigned going to the left, ducking down at the last minute and placing his palm against the cold pavement. He spun his right leg out, twisting his body to trip the man. It hurt like hell but was worth it when he felt his foot hit its mark, knocking the man down. He rolled on top of him, bracing his arm back, ready to pummel the guy to an inch of his life. Before his fist could get even halfway to the man’s face, however, a palm caught it. 

“Like I said,” the man said, “you’re not half bad. It’s almost a shame, really.” He squeezed Mysterion’s clenched fist. The vigilante screamed out in pain as he felt his bone shatter. It was impossible, nobody should have that much strength in their hand alone. 

Something sharp dug against the broken flesh of his hand and Mysterion managed to fix his hazy vision upon it. The strangers hand, still clamped around Mysterion’s broken one, was mangled. It was as if he had been wearing a too small rubber glove that his real hand had burst free from. Blood oozed down his shredded fingers, matting into the hair of his _other_ fingers, fingers that had burst through human flesh and gripped Mysterion’s useless hand in their vice grip. Long, pointed black nails protruded from the end of the thick, hairy digits, ripping through Mysterion’s glove. 

“What are you?” Mysterion managed to ask. Blood smudged his lips as he forced the words out. 

The man’s golden eyes seemed to glow. Blood ran in streams down his muscular humanoid arm, the broken tatters of human fingers flopping uselessly against the bloodied flesh. 

“What does it look like?” the man said, smiling wickedly. “I’m a monster.” 

His hand released Mysterion’s and it flopped uselessly to his side. The vigilante barely had a chance to blink as the monsters hand flashed towards his neck, easily ripping out his throat. 

There was a second, which felt like a lifetime, in which Mysterion choked and drowned on his own blood and then there was nothing. 

Mysterion was dead.

 

They sat on the old sofa together, not quite touching. Tweek was staring at him with wide eyes. Craig’s story had only just begun with how his parents had burst into his bedroom in the middle of the night demanding he pack up his stuff because they had to leave _right now_ and he couldn’t tell anyone where or why he was leaving, no, not even Tweek. 

There was a _ping._ Tweek screamed in surprise. 

“Sorry, that’s me,” Craig said, pulling his phone out from his pocket and unlocking it. As he stared at the screen, the blood drained from his face, leaving him ghost-like. 

The phone slipped through his fingers, dropping to the floor. 

Tweek stared between the man and his fallen phone, before reaching out to pick it up.

“Tweek, don’t – ” Craig managed to croak out, but Tweek was already looking at the screen.

It was a photo. For a moment, Tweek couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. That moment passed quickly as his brain registered what his eyes were seeing.

Mysterion’s mask and hood had been removed, all the better to show the face and the damaged caused to it. Mysterion favoured black and purple but the photo showed him in red. Red from all the blood. There was so much blood. Too much. 

Mysterion’s eyes were open and unseeing.

Tweek felt sick. “ _Oh God,_ ” he whispered shakily.

“He killed Kenny.” Craig’s voice was hollow, broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my first draft of this I completely forgot the drinking age in America is 21 so the fake ID thing was an afterthought. Clyde would probably totally have fake ID though. 
> 
> I killed Kenny, I’m a bastard haha :P


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not overly happy with this chapter but the events that transpire are important to the plot so I guess it has to stay. 
> 
> And guys, unless I’m missing something with the current meaning (I’m old and out of touch ahah) Craig isn’t a furry. He’s not going to get into an animal costume and get it on with Tweek or anything. Sorry to disappoint :P ...Although, there’s an idea right there... hmm... ;) 
> 
> As always, thanks for Kudos and comments. Keep them going as they’re what keep me writing! Knowing that there’s people who want to know what’s going to happen and await my updates really keeps me motivated :D
> 
> As for Kenny, you’ll just have to wait and see :P

“You bastard!” Kyle yelled, anger burning like fire in his emerald eyes, causing them to shine brightly. Eric Cartman only smirked. He was enjoying himself far too much.

“Kahl, _Kahl_ , you’ve gotta calm down, man.” 

“Calm down? You son-of-a-bitch! You did this intentionally to screw with me, didn’t you? Just admit it, fatass!”

“Intentionally?” Eric asked, his face pulling into a look of innocent bewilderment that Kyle saw straight through. “I intentionally made you lie to Stan for two years?” 

“No, but you – ” Kyle cut off with a stutter, dropping his angry gaze to the ground, his brow furrowing. As much as he hated to admit it, the fatter man was right. He _had_ lied to Stan for two years. Still, Cartman _must_ have deliberately gone out of his way to screwed him over, it was the only thing that made sense. It was what Eric Cartman did, after all. He liked to be in control and he liked to screw with peoples emotions. 

“Kahl, I’m seriously. This is _your_ mess. Brah, I’m sorry it happened but I did _not_ cause this.”

“Okay,” Kyle said, trying to calm down. He wasn’t sure whether to believe the larger man or not but he could at least hear him out. “Okay. What exactly did you say to him?”

“Well, we were drinking, and I mean, you know Stan can get as bad as his drunk-ass dad sometimes, right? Anyway, we were talking about you and him and then, well, he admitted that he was surprised us two never hooked up because all through high school he was certain there was something going on between us. All that anger and tension, y’know,” Eric shrugged innocently. “I just told he wasn’t wrong. Kahl, seriously, how was I meant to know you hadn’t told him if you didn’t bother to tell me first? Next time you want me to keep a secret for you, brah, you’d better tell me it’s a secret first.”

“I told you a hundred times!” Kyle was exasperated, pinching his nose and doing his very best to calm his breathing so that he wouldn’t up and punch the larger boy in the face. Not that that wouldn’t be immensely satisfying right now, truth be told. 

“You told me _while_ it was going on. But Kahl, that was years ago. You never said to take it to my grave.”

“It was implied.”

“Anyone would think you were embarrassed to have fucked me.”

“I am,” Kyle said between gritted teeth. 

“If you were that embarrassed you wouldn’t have kept coming back for more.” Eric was still enjoying himself. Making Kyle uncomfortable was one of his favourite pastimes. “If it makes you feel better I can tell Stan that I wouldn’t touch your filthy Jew body again for all the Jew gold in the world, though.”

“That would be great, thanks.” Kyle didn’t even shout at him for the slur. Eric frowned but then shook it off, smiling cockily. 

“So, fancy a fumble for old times sake? While you’re single an’ all?”

“Fuck off, Cartman.” With that, Kyle stormed out of the house. Eric made some offhand comment about sand in the boys vagina but, with nobody to hear it, it wasn’t all that funny. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Out of all his friends, he was one of the few who had completely abandoned his trademark look, throwing away his blue and yellow puffball hat back in high school in an attempt to shake himself away from his elementary school persona. It hadn’t worked too well: he was still a dick. 

Eric had thought he was going to go places. He certainly had the ambition and skills to achieve it and yet, somehow, he was still at his moms, still in South Park, still a near enough nobody. What the fuck was wrong with him? He could be running this country and yet, instead, he sat on his fat arse all day doing precious little. 

It just wasn’t fair. 

Eric was no longer obese, though he was still a bit over weight. He’d dialled back on eating but exercise was still a bitch. Too much walking brought a sweat on, and running was out of the question. Because of this, although he didn’t know it yet, Eric Cartman’s night was about to get a whole lot worse. 

Deciding that he didn’t want to stay at home where he would probably only maul over Kyle’s words for hours on end, Eric left the house. There had to be something he could do in this dump of a town. Maybe he could get some footage for his vlog or something. If he wanted to get paid this month he should probably upload something. He wasn’t really feeling the whole vlogging thing anymore, though. It was something he’d started as a child, given up on and then started again in his mid-teens. He was successful enough to make a career out of it, but only just. Eric still had to make semi-regular videos if he wanted to bring in any money. It was just such a fucking effort. 

Kicking the dirt with his shoes, Eric barely lifted his feet as he slugged along. He held his phone in his hands but didn’t film anything. He just wasn’t… inspired. It surprised him. Plenty had happened over the last couple of days that he could talk about, perhaps even embellish a little just to give it that extra Shazam. 

Maybe, what he should do was hunt down the wolf. Footage of that would get him millions of views! That would be totally sweet! It would also – hopefully – take his mind off of Kyle. Did he really feel bad, goddamnit? It was hardly his fucking fault that Kyle had decided to keep secrets and lie to his boyfriend of two years. Sure, maybe Eric _had_ known that Stan didn’t know the truth before he opened his mouth but so fucking what? It served the Damn Jew boy right for being so ashamed of their high school fling. Eric had feelings, too, damn it!

It was pretty dark and Eric wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. When he looked up to clock his surroundings he realised he wasn’t entirely sure where he was. He knew South Park like the back of his hand, but it was a cloudy night and his eyes weren’t too great at seeing in the dark. He frowned, scanning for anything familiar. He couldn’t be far from his house, he hadn’t been walking for that long, right? He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts he couldn’t be certain of even that, though. 

Goddamn Jew, distracting him so. 

Eventually, Eric figured out his surroundings. He was near Stark’s Pond. In the dark everything had looked unfamiliar, sinister even. Now that he knew where he was, however, he found any nerves that had been building up sizzling back down into non existence. This was South Park after all. Weird shit happened all the time but he survived it all. He was Eric-Fucking-Cartman. He would keep on surviving all the shit South Park threw at him until he could figure out what the hell he wanted out of life and then he would just leave. Eric’s dreams were bigger than South Park. Much bigger. 

The was a rustle in a bush to his left. Eric glanced over almost uninterestedly. It was probably just a stray cat. He unlocked his phone, wondering whether he could make a good vlog out here, in the eerie darkness. Maybe he could stage some creepy shit, make his stupid subscribers worried for his safety or what not. For that, he’d have to do a live show, he figured, otherwise they would know he was okay because he’d uploaded and edited the video. 

“Alright guys, how’s it hanging. This is Cartman-Brah!” he rehearsed, angling the camera but not pressing record. His heart just wasn’t in it. 

He lowered his phone. 

A twig snapped. Eric didn’t even look up. 

What was wrong with him? Was he really feeling _that_ guilty about screwing things up for Kyle? He didn’t give a damn about the Jew boy, right? Sure, they were friends, but Eric saw his friends more as a means to an end than as real people with real feelings that he could really care about. _Right?_

There was a growl.

This time Eric did look up. He looked up right into the golden eyes of a large, growling wolf. 

The wolf pounced. 

Eric ran. An angry stitch bit into his side almost immediately. His throat felt frozen as he struggled to breathe. It was his clumsy footing that got him in the end, though. The earth came up to meet his face far too quickly and his phone skidded from his grip, leaving him utterly alone as a pair of paws pressed into his back and a great big glob of drool landed on the exposed flesh of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Kyle and Cartman used to hook up and Kyle didn’t tell Stan about it (I think Stan probably even asked him at one point and he flat out lied) so that’s what their issue is. Don’t worry, we’re back to Tweek and Craig next chapter which is what everyone probably cares about. I know I do >.<


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read/support this story, it means the world <3

“We have to find him!”

“Tweek, no. It’s dangerous out there.”

“Goddamnit, Craig! We can’t – _nngh!_ – leave him!” Forgetting all about his own injuries, Tweek moved like somebody who hadn’t had their head repeatedly bashed against an all too solid surface. He moved with determined strides, his hands barely twitching, his jaw set. He was back at the front door before Craig could even come up with a half-arsed reason for him to stay put. 

“Tweek, he’s dead. There’s nothing you can do for him except go out there and get yourself killed. I won’t allow that and I’m pretty certain Kenny wouldn’t want that either.” 

“Why – _gah!_ – why is this guy doing this? Why is he after us? After – _nngh_ – me?!” Tweek was tugging at his hair again, his resolve from mere seconds ago crumbling. Honestly, he was surprised he wasn’t bald after all the years of brutality towards his messy blond locks. 

“He’s doing it to get to me,” Craig admitted, unable to meet Tweek’s gaze. 

“But why?!”

“Because I dumped him.” Tweek gawped at the raven haired boy, eyes wide and twitching. 

“He’s trying to kill all your childhood friends because you _dumped_ him? Is he crazy? He’s crazy, right? Oh God, you dated a psychopath and now we’re all going to suffer. Oh Jesus, this is way too much pressure. _Ahh_!” 

“Tweek, calm down. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Hurt me? He’s already beaten the crap out of me! He’s killed Kenny! Jesus Christ!” Tweek was trembling so much he was practically vibrating across the floor. He had tears in his eyes. He felt broken, almost empty save for a feeling burning in the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling that was growing, burning out of control. It was anger and it was like wildfire, consuming his entire being. The anger, he realised with a start, was directed at Craig. This was Craig’s fault. Kenny was dead because of Craig!

Tweek pulled fiercely on the door handle.

“Tweek, no! You have to stay here.”

“Goddamnit, Craig, you don’t get a say in my life anymore. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. You don’t get to protect me.” His words were crystal clear and full of venom. They bit into Craig. A little part of Tweek was sure he would regret his cruel words in time but right now he was too angry to give a damn. Right now, Kenny was dead and everyone else was sure to soon follow. 

A flicker of what could be hurt flashed across Craig’s face but it was gone again before Tweek could be sure or allow his resolve to crumble and start to care again. He couldn’t care again right now. If he started to care then he would surely do as Craig wished and hide out inside this old abandoned building leaving Kenny alone in the dark. Tweek couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave Kenny alone when the taller blond would never leave him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t _fair_. 

The winter winds ravaged him as Tweek fully pulled the door open and stepped outside. They whipped at his hair, tangling it more thoroughly than his worried fingers already had, and stung the bruises and cuts that decorated his flesh. Craig followed and Tweek let him without a word. 

They made their way back down the hill. Tweek struggled but Craig – sensibly – didn’t try and assist him. He was sure the smaller boy would knock him on his arse for trying. He wasn’t wrong. 

Tweek didn’t know where to begin looking for Kenny. He sniffled into his hand, trying to hide his tears as he contemplated his path, all the while his brain rattled away at him at one hundred miles per hour. Kenny was dead? That was impossible. It was unbearable. Tweek felt a pain in his heart that he hadn’t in a long time. He tried to ignore it. He had to find Kenny. Kenny was what was important right now. 

He headed towards Stark’s Pond, trying desperately to ignore his shadow, tailing him silently. Despite Tweek being unbelievably pissed off at his former boyfriend, he was glad to have him there. Craig had proven himself capable in a fight twice now and, seeing as Tweek was a target, it was nice to know he wouldn’t necessarily die. Necessarily because what if Craig got ripped to shreds before he could save Tweek and oh God, Tweek didn’t want Craig to die! They _were_ going to die though, weren’t they? Oh Jesus Christ, they really _were_ going to die! Tweek was going to be killed and he would die!

“Tweek,” Craig said calmly. Tweek realised his breaths had become rapid and shallow. He stopped walking, his panic-filled eyes turning to Craig. “Breathe. You got this.” Did he? Tweek really didn’t think he did. He raised a trembly hand to his face, feeling his wet cheeks with surprise. 

“I’mgoingtodie aren’tI?” 

“I’m not going to let that happen,” Craig said. He walked closer and took Tweek’s hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. It shouldn’t have been comforting but Tweek found himself calming slightly. Goddamn it, Craig. 

“Kenny died,” he whimpered.

“And I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life. I won’t let anyone else – ” He cut off as a terrified scream rang out just down the path, closer to Stark’s Pond. Craig let go of Tweek’s hands instantly. “Stay here,” he barked, taking off at a run. 

Tweek hesitated, looking between his feet and the darkness that had swallowed Craig. A loud howl made up his mind. With a terrified yelp, Tweek took after Craig. There was no way he was staying here by himself! 

Tripping over his feet, Tweek landed painfully on his face, grazing his chin. With a groan, he used his achy, sore muscles to pull himself up and was met with an alarming sight. Craig stood facing off the wolf, weaponless no less, while a bloody Eric Cartman lay curled up in a trembling ball behind the growling beast. 

“You’ve got to stop this,” Craig said to the wolf. Tweek watched in horrified fascination from his place on the floor. He daren’t move incase it caught the wolves attention. What was going on? Why was Craig _talking_ to a wolf? Could the wolf talk back? Oh god, what if the wolf could talk back! What if the wolf was actually a person? What if –

Tweek blinked. 

What if the wolf was a werewolf? 

Stranger things had happened. 

Tweek thought back to the man who attacked him. His golden eyes had struck Tweek as familiar yet he was certain he’d never seen his face before. What if that was because he _hadn’t_ seen his _human_ face before… 

Suddenly it seemed so obvious. The man and the wolf had shown up at the same time, after all. All of it had started when Craig had returned to South Park. He had to be right… Tweek was certain he was right…

Looking at the wolf more closely, Tweek let out an involuntary shriek of terror. Golden eyes, yup. Jesus Christ! Craig had dumped a werewolf? That was it then, they were all going to die. Horrible, grisly, _gruesome_ deaths! 

Another thought occurred to Tweek, disrupting the chain of messy deaths playing out in his mind. Tweek’s ex-werewolf-boyfriend was hot. Scary, yes, but hot none the less. That was his competition?! Tweek didn’t stand a chance! And- _Oh God, Why am I thinking about that right now? I’m terrible! I’m awful! I deserve to be eaten. Oh Jesus – I don’t want to be eaten!_

“I don’t want to kill you but I will,” Craig was saying when Tweek finally started paying attention again. The wolf was still growling at him. “Seriously, dude, don’t make me do this.” They stood facing one another off for a long minute. Finally the wolf gave one final growl and bounded away into the trees. Tweek couldn’t help but think just how easy that had been and just what that meant for what was coming. 

Craig ran over to Cartman. 

“Shit. Oh shit,” he was saying as Tweek found his feet and joined them on trembling legs. 

“Is he o-okay?”

“No.” Craig looked as pale as a ghost. “We need to get him back to the lab.”

“B-but the – _nngh_ – hospital – ”

“It’s not safe to take him to the hospital.”

“But – ”

Craig looked at him sharply. “Trust me. We need to get him back to the lab. I know you’re injured but I need you to help me carry him, okay?”

Tweek looked nervously at Cartman. He was unconscious and covered in blood. A lot of blood. Tweek nodded. “O-okay.” He grit his teeth in determination and helped haul the larger man to his feet. They took a side each. It was slow progress and Tweek had to stop multiple times to catch his breath. He didn’t tell Craig that carrying the heavier man was hurting him, he just clenched his teeth and got on with it. Cartman needed them right now and Cartman may be an arse, but he was still Tweek’s sort-of friend. 

Getting up the hill was the tricky part but somehow, eventually, they made it. As soon as they laid Cartman down inside, Tweek collapsed to the floor in a sweaty mess. He hurt all over and his mind was shouting a mishmash of panicked thoughts at him that he was doing his best to suppress. 

“Are you okay?” Craig asked, crouching down to peer at Tweek. Tweek didn’t have the energy to answer so he just nodded. It was easier than trying to force a lie from his lips. Once upon a time Craig would have seen through him but, seemingly satisfied, Craig returned his attention to Cartman. Tweek tried to tell his screaming mind that it was only because he was distracted. His screaming mind wasn’t listening. “You should probably text the guys, get them to come here. They should have a say.”

“Gah! A say in what?” Tweek gulped. He didn’t like the sound of that.

Craig didn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh... sorry, Cartman’s still alive, at least for now - you’ll just have to wait and see what happens. It’s only going to get worse from here, y’all gunna hate me pretty soon. Sorry. 
> 
> Also, life lesson here. Never break up with a werewolf. They mean, angry mothafuckas with many issues :P


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really starting to lose motivation for this fic and it breaks my heart :( I’m currently writing chapter 15 (you guys are going to HATE me for chapter 14 btw) so at least I’ve got a week or so of chapters ready for y’all but if I don’t get past this soon I’m worried I’m going to end up ending this abruptly just to get it over with and I DO NOT want to do that. You guys deserve for this story to end well, without me rushing. Keep your fingers crossed that I can pull through this. I shall spend hours pouring over Creek fan art... y’know... for inspiration... haha 
> 
> Also, on an unrelated note, I am British, so sorry if I ever slip up between British and American spellings (arse and ass, mom and mum for example) I try my best but it’s way more natural for me to write in British English
> 
> As always, I love you all for the comments and kudos! THANK YOU <3

They all arrived together. Tweek greeted them alone, screaming in their faces as he opened the door.

“Hi Tweek, what’re you doing he- _Jesus_!” Clyde’s gaze fell on Tweek’s bruises and his jaw dropped. In all honesty, Tweek had forgotten about his injuries. With everything else that had happened over the past hour, a few aches and pains seemed a little trivial.

“Gah, I’m… I’m okay,” Tweek said, clearly not okay. He was white as a sheet, trembling more than usual and had relentless tears threatening to spill over at the corner of each puffy red eye. He was also covered in Cartman’s blood which he noticed all his friends gazes linger on with worried eyes, though none of them commented on it. Clearly, they feared the kind of answer they would get if they asked. Tweek doubted their imaginations could ever compete with the reality of what had happened that night. He hated that he was the one who had to break it to them. It was too much pressure!

“What’s going on, dude?” Kyle asked, stepping inside with the rest of them. Tweek screamed at the question, ripping into his hair, his eyes twitching.

“Yeah,” Stan chipped in, purposely looking anywhere but Kyle. “And is Kenny with you, man? I text him but he didn’t respond.”

Tweek’s heart sunk. His hands slowly untangled from the fluffy mess of blond and dropped uselessly to his side.

“N-no,” he said quietly. He didn’t know how to tell them about the text Craig had received so he just bypassed it for now. “Craig’s here though and… uh… _nngh_ , C-Cartman.”

“Cartman’s here?” Kyle sounded furious. He turned to leave. “I’m not staying if he’s here.”

“Yeah,” Stan said in agreement, although he still looked anywhere but at his boyfriend. “Neither am I.”

“But he’s… _GAH_! He’s hurt!!” Tweek managed to cry out past the lump in his throat that had magically formed there, (what if aliens had made him swallow something in his sleep and it was tracking him? Oh Christ! What if they KNEW WHERE HE WAS?!) once again tugging frantically at his hair as his eyes twitched and blinked like nobodies business. He hadn’t meant to break the news like that. He hadn’t wanted to just blurt it out, but the aliens were tracking him and Kyle had been leaving and he couldn’t leave, not when Cartman was dying – Oh Jesus, it was way too much pressure.

Kyle stopped walking. “What?”

“He’s hurt real bad, man,” Tweek said, desperately wishing he could calm down and quiet his chattering thoughts. It was like he had an army in his head right now, hundred of thousands of tiny people who just wouldn’t. Shut. Up.

“And he’s here? Why isn’t he in a hospital?” Token asked, glancing at Kyle who stood open mouthed and pale.

“We – _WAHH!_ – we can’ttakehimtoahospital, man! Gah, IT’S ALL TOO MUCH PRESSURE!!”

“Tweek, calm down.” Clyde moved to stand in front of him, pinning his hands down by his side so that he couldn’t inflict any damage to himself. Hands restrained, Tweek just screamed in Clyde’s face.

“Take us to Eric,” Butters chipped in quickly, before Tweek could work up another scream. His face was pinched in worry, his blue eyes darting around as if trying to spot Cartman in the gloom.

“No, wait,” Token said. “Tell us what happened first.”

“I – I can’t! Oh man, this is too much, I’m freaking out! Jesus Christ, I can’t handle this shit, man!”

“Deep breathes, Tweek,” Clyde said, still keeping the other mans hands firmly pinned by his side. Tweek tried to follow his lead, breathing in and out deeply. It didn’t help. If anything, it just drew more attention to the lump in his throat that was probably leading the aliens to him right this minute. Werewolves were bad enough, man, he didn’t need to deal with aliens, too!

“C-Cartman was attacked,” Tweek rushed to tell them.

“Who by?” Stan demanded.

“The wolf! _Ahhh_!”

“The wolf that got Ned?” Stan asked, eyes wide.

“Jesus, Tweek! We need to get him to a hospital,” Kyle said, glancing at Stan.

“No! No, _gahh_! W-we can’t!”

“But why not?” Butters asked. “You said he’s hurt real bad. Let us see him.”

Tweek hesitated but then nodded, showing his friends through the ruin of a building to where Craig was bandaging a wound on Cartman’s arm. Blood had already soaked through the binds.

“Cartman?” Kyle was by his side in an instant. Stan hesitated, but followed Butters who was next to crouch down by the injured larger man. He was unconscious and drenched in sweat, his breathing erratic.

“That’s it,” Kyle snapped, already trying to tug Cartman up, “we need to get him to the hospital!”

“No hospitals!” Craig said with severity.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because that isn’t an ordinary wolf bite,” Craig said.

“And what the fuck does that mean?”

“Keep in mind that this is South Park and you’ve grown up seeing all this shit,” Craig started in his monotone voice. There was a pause and then, “It’s a werewolf bite.”

“Oh fuck off,” Stan said automatically, though there was some hesitance to his tone.

“It’s true!” Tweek squealed. He had seen both the man and the wolf and he had no doubt about the legitimacy behind Craig’s claim.

“Let’s say that it _is_ true. What are you saying here?” Token asked, volunteering as the voice of reason.

“I’m saying that if we don’t deal with him, he’ll turn into a werewolf too.”

“Deal with him?” Kyle turned sharply to face Craig. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“You can’t mean… You can’t mean kill him,” Butters said, wide eyed with horror.

“Think about it,” Craig said, still as calm and stoic as ever. “If Cartman’s still anything like what he was when I knew him, do you really want to turn that asshole into a werewolf?”

“He’s got a point, man,” Stan said quietly.

Kyle rounded on him instead. “You want us to kill him? Are you fucking serious right now, Stan?”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to kill him, Kyle. But if the other option is letting him turn into a monster…”

“This is bullshit! If this has anything to do with – ”

“-God! No! It’s just, you have to admit, Cartman’s a bit of a dick. What if, as a werewolf he only get’s worse? You know what he’s like with power.”

“Yeah, man. I mean, turning every full moon into a ravaging beast doesn’t seem like the best idea for – ” Clyde started to say.

“-The moon doesn’t have to be full,” Craig cut in. They all turned to stare blankly at him. “Think about it. It’s not a full moon tonight.”

“So… they can turn whenever?” Butters asked meekly.

“Not whenever, no. Just when the moon is at its fullest. Around a week, usually.”

“Jesus Christ!” Tweek squealed.

“A trained wolf can fight the changes, right up until the full moon. On that one night there is no stopping the change. For somebody like Cartman, though, he would become a monster every night for the full week. The death toll would be catastrophic.”

“How is it you know so much about this?” Token asked suspiciously.

“That’s an excellent point.” Clyde turned eyes full of accusations on his former friend.

“Does that really matter right now?” Craig asked. If he was annoyed, his dry monotone didn’t reveal it. “Isn’t there more important matters at hand?”

“No, I think you should tell us,” Kyle said angrily. Only Butters attention was still on Cartman. He held the larger boys hand tightly, the back of his free hand pressed against Cartman’s forehead, feeling the temperature of his skin.

“Jesus Christ, okay then. It’s because I’m a werewolf, too, alright?”

“Ahhh!” Tweek screamed and, like a bullet, he shot from the room. It was a blink and you’d miss it moment. One minute he’d been standing there, twitching frantically but feet otherwise rooted firmly to the ground and the next, he was gone, a scream chasing after him as he fled.

“Great, now look what you’ve done,” Craig said, annoyed, and followed Tweek from the room, leaving the others standing in disbelieving silence.

“Well shit…” Clyde said, when they were left alone in the room with their werewolf bitten friend (if any of them could really call him that. With Cartman it was hard to tell if you were friends or not.)

“Craig ‘I just want a normal, quiet life’ Tucker is a goddamn werewolf?” Stan said in disbelief.

“I don’t really think that’s the issue right now, fellas,” Butters said quietly. They all turned to look at him. “Eric is burning up. I don’t know if we’ll need to be arguing about whether we kill him or not for much longer.”

Now that they focused on him, they could see that the larger mans breathing had become shallow and ragged. Sweat pooled down his forehead in streams and his skin was chalky with dark circles underneath his tightly closed eyes.

“What do we do?” Kyle asked, staring hopelessly at his friends.

“I guess we just have to ride it out,” Stan said and he slipped his hand into Kyle’s cool, clammy one, squeezing tightly. Kyle visibly calmed at Stan’s long overdue touch but couldn’t tear his worried eyes away from Cartman as his gaze flickered back to the bedridden man. If the raven-haired man was worried about Kyle’s obvious concern for Cartman’s safety he decided now was clearly not the best time to voice it. Right now, his boyfriend needed him and, as much as he was pissed off at the red head for lying to him, he didn’t want to see him sad and alone. Stan couldn’t bare to watch Kyle cry, even if it was over the racist fatass of the group. Seeing Kyle cry was one of the things he’d never been able to handle, not even back when he was dating Wendy and insisting that he was straight and that any feelings he had for his super best friend were just those of close friendship. Kyle crying broke his heart every time. Kyle crying would _always_ break his heart.

“Do you think he’s going to die?” Butters asked in a quiet voice. Nobody answered. There was a beat, “And just where the hell is Kenny?”

Nobody answered that either, but, from their shared worried looks, they were all fearing the same thing.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/139273360@N08/40903597761/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tweek is really freaking out right now haha. Poor Tweekers. Alien’s aren’t out to get you, lovely. Werewolves on the other hand...
> 
> Also, I’m not very good at art but because I’m procrastinating writing I did a doodle of Tweek having a break down from this chapter haha. Bless him. And Jesus Christ, it took me longer to figure out how to embed the image here than it did to draw the damn thing ~sigh


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got some lovely comments on the last chapter that really warmed my heart. You guys are seriously so awesome, thank you! And people liked my crappy doodle (uh, why??? Haha) so I did another. Don’t expect one every chapter, it really depends on whether I have time/can be bothered/think I’m capable of drawing a scene from said chapter but we shall see. I think my downfall with art is patience. Want me to spend hours writing, sure, easy. But spend more than an hour on a drawing? God no, I don’t have the patience for that! Haha. If any of you fancy doing any doddles feel free btw :D

“Tweek?” Looking left and right down the gloomy corridor and not spotting the smaller man, Craig sighed. This was all he needed. In the state that he was in, Tweek couldn’t be trusted to be left alone but, back in the room, it was only a matter of time before Cartman either died or turned. What was he supposed to do? What was he meant to prioritise? When had his life gone to shit? Oh, yeah. Nine years ago. 

Craig glanced at his watch. It was only ten. He had time. 

Using his heightened sense of smell, Craig took off in the direction Tweek had fled. All the while he searched, he mentally cursed himself for his screw up. This was all his damn fault. This could have all been avoided if he’d just used his fucking head. For some reason, though, even after all these years, when Tweek Tweak was involved, Craig just _couldn’t._ It was like he had a switch in his head labelled ‘common sense’ and it blew a fuse every time Tweek was near. He didn’t know what it was about the spazzy blond that did it, or why he couldn’t get him out of his head. Craig was stuck but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be _un_ stuck and that just pissed him off all the more. 

It was pretty messed up to still feel so strongly over someone you hadn’t seen or spoken to in nine years, right? Craig was pretty sure it was really fucking screwed up. What was wrong with him that he couldn’t bloody move on? Why was he forever stuck in the past? Maybe being bitten by a werewolf had done more than curse him to forever be a slave of the moon. Maybe it had also damaged him somehow. Maybe it had stopped time somewhere in his brain, frozen forever in the moment of a frightened barely-eleven year old who just wanted to get back home to his boyfriend? 

Craig should have fought it. Having feelings for the smaller man would only put him in danger. Hell, it had _already_ put him in danger. And yet, it was Tweek, and Tweek was special. 

“Tweek?” he called out again. He heard somebody sniff a corridor down and followed the sound. 

Tweek was huddled into a ball so small that Craig would have missed him if he hadn’t of been searching. Like this, he looked so much like his ten-year-old self that Craig paused, wondering for a moment whether he was really there at all or whether it was just some cruel trick of the mind. A little hesitantly, he approached and crouched down, placing a hand on the messy blond locks. A wave of relief washed over him as he felt how soft and _real_ Tweek’s hair felt. The smaller man stiffened at the contact. 

“Tweek?” Craig tried to keep his voice soft, like he was talking to a wounded puppy. It was hard; he’d never been good at conveying emotions through his tone. He always sounded bored no matter how hard he tried to come across otherwise. 

Looking up sharply, Tweek’s eyes regarded Craig with a look of pure terror and he scrambled back, sliding across the floor and putting some distance between the pair. _Ouch_ , Craig thought. _That hurt._

“Ahhh! Y-your one of them! You’re a – _nngh_ – monster! Oh God - You want to eat me, don’t you? Oh God, oh Jesus! You’re back to kill me! This was a trap, I shouldn’t have – Oh Christ, I’m doomed! _Gahh_!!” He was tugging at his hair again, his startlingly large eyes fixated on Craig, unblinking, as if one blink would be enough to see him killed. 

Craig stayed where he’d crouched, his arm still hanging in the air, not daring to approach his companion or even move for fear of another negative outburst. He tried to keep his face blank, something he was usually so good at, but damn, it was hard. Tweek’s words stung. _You’re a monster._ The smaller man wasn’t wrong, Craig himself thought it often, but hearing those words from Tweek… Craig hadn’t thought he could hurt like this. “I’m not here to kill you, Tweek.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?! You’ve only lied so far! You haven’t – _nngh!_ – told me anything!”

“If I haven’t told you anything then how have I lied to you?” Craig said reasonably. 

“You’re trying to trick me,” Tweek accused. 

“I’m trying to save your life, goddamn it.” There it went, his cool composure. 

“A-and why am I in danger in the first place, h-huh? It’s because of you, isn’t it?! Ahh!” 

Tweek had him there. Craig lowered his gaze to his knees, finally letting his hand flop uselessly to his side. The only reason any of this was happening to Tweek was because of him. All of it, now that Craig stopped to think about. Not just the current life threatening concerns but also the deeper issues that ran through Tweek, leaving him twitchy, anxious and willing to slice open his own wrists when he thought he was alone. What was Craig doing? Every time he tried to make things better, he made them worse. Tweek deserved so much more. Tweek deserved somebody like Kenny, who would protect him and never let him down. Except Kenny was dead and that was Craig’s fault too. 

“Craig?” Apparently not getting an answer was just as bad as receiving one. Tweek looked at him expectantly, his eyes still wide and fearful but with a softness there that hadn’t been present moments before. 

“You’re right,” Craig said finally. “This is all my fault.”

Tweek was hurt, Kenny was dead, Cartman was dying – or _worse_ – and it was all his fucking fault! Craig felt himself deflate. He wasn’t a crier but he felt damn close to shedding some tears right now.

Although he heard Tweek’s shifting movements, he was still surprised when he met the wide green eyes that peered at him, close enough that if Craig moved his neck in just the right way their lips could touch. No, he would _not_ think about kissing Tweek right now. He didn’t deserve to ever kiss Tweek. 

“You don’t want to eat me?” Tweek asked quietly. 

Craig gave a humourless laugh. “I don’t.” 

“Oh good.” He folded his legs beneath him, sitting on the dusty floor like he planned to be there for a while. Craig didn’t fucking get it. How could Tweek shift from mistrust to trust so easily? Why did he believe Craig when he said he wasn’t going to hurt him? It was trust like that that would get him killed but then, somehow, Craig was sure that Tweek’s trust was reserved for him alone. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “What’s it like?”

“Being a werewolf? It fucking sucks.”

“Is that why you left?” Somehow their interaction seemed to have turned into twenty questions but at least Tweek seemed to have calmed down now that he had decided Craig wasn’t the bad guy after all. They didn’t have time to sit and talk, but Craig couldn’t bring himself to end it just yet. It may not have been pleasant conversation but it was still time alone with Tweek and that was way overdue, even if it was completely undeserved. Craig was selfish enough that he wasn’t going to give that up just yet. 

“I wasn’t bit when we left, but we left because of the wolf.”

“Why?” Tweek tilted his head, seeming genuinely curious. There was no point in holding back now, Craig had already said too much. Way more than he’d ever intended. He should have known he wasn’t strong enough to stick to his original plan. Like hell would he have been able to protect Tweek but stay away while doing it. When it came to Tweek, he was weak. 

“My dad got involved with the pack, then got scared and backed out of an agreement,” Craig said. “He knew they’d be out to get us so he made us pack up and run away. They caught up with us eventually.”

“Are your family… Is Tricia okay?”

“They only took me.” Tweek didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that. Instead, he just reached out and placed a trembling hand on Craig’s knee. Icy blue eye rose to meet green, wide and full of confusion and hope. 

“Why am I involved in this?” Tweek asked softly. It was more out of curiosity than anger at this point. And, perhaps, the knowledge would help him live just that little bit longer. 

“I screwed up,” Craig admitted. “I slipped and let him know about you.”

“I don’t – _nngh_ – understand,” Tweek admitted. 

Craig sighed heavily. His gaze hadn’t once dropped from Tweek’s. “So, as I said before, I was in some kind of twisted relationship with the current pack leader. But, yeah, it was fucking twisted and so I wanted out. There was a shouting match, I lost my cool and said some shit that I wish I hadn’t.”

“But what’s that got to d-do with, _gah!_ , me?” 

“Because,” Craig’s gaze seemed to intensify. It was all that Tweek could do not to look away. He blinked nervously. Craig suddenly hesitated, clearing his throat nervously but, when he continued speaking, his voice remained strong, unwavering. “I never got over you. Not once in nine years did I stop thinking about you.”

“O-oh…” If Tweek’s eyes got any wider they would surely fall right out of his head. 

“It’s messed up, right?” Craig laughed humourlessly. “I couldn’t get over some guy I dated for a year – ” Craig cut off as Tweek screamed in his face. 

“ _Gahh!_ If you’re messed up then what does that make me??!” Tweek was pulling furiously at his hair, his face twitching more than usual. 

Craig gave a small smile. He couldn’t help the relief that filled him, flooding through his veins, warming him. “You too, huh?” Tweek was looking at him in terror, his eyes looking like green saucers. After a long moment, the fear in his face shifted, his lips turning upright until a small smile touched his face. 

“ _Nngh_ … I thought… I thought that it was all just pretend after all…” Tweek confessed in a small voice. The frown returned on Craig’s face, and his hand moved almost on instinct. Tweek flinched in terror but the taller boy only moved his palm into Tweek’s messy hair, resting it there and staring at the blond with a look he couldn’t quite work out.

“It was never pretend, you know that, right?” It may have taken the towns people’s heartbreak to bring them together but that didn’t mean their relationship had ever been fake. It had only ever meant that it had taken being forced together to realise that, actually, that was what they had wanted all along. They smiled at one another again but, before anything further could be said, they were interrupted as Token rushed down the corridor, a serious expression across his face. 

“Guys! Come quick!” Tweek let out another scream but allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and dragged after Craig as they followed Token back to Cartman and whatever horror was awaiting them.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/139273360@N08/40246923804/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a little bit of fluff finally. As much as I wish otherwise this fic probably won’t have much fluff seeing as they’re under threat and people are dying and what not. But I’ll try and add some cute moments here and there now that Tweek and Craig are properly reunited. 
> 
> Also, I like to think that they would have changed their clothes in nine years, but for the sake of my lack of talent in the art department, they’re gunna always be wearing their usual clothes from when they were ten haha
> 
> To everyone who has stuck with me so far, THANK YOU, HAVE A COOKIE <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably shouldn’t be updating again so quickly seeing as I’m still really struggling with writers block on this fic, but I think people have been waiting for this chapter and I like to shower a bit of kindness down before stomping on some hearts :P

Cartman was awake. Whether or not he was lucid was another matter. His eyes darted rapidly from left to right as if he were in rem sleep. Purple bruising circled them and red veins spiderwebbed the white. Sweat pooled down his chalky face. His lips moved as if he were speaking but no sound came out. 

Butters had found a near enough clean cloth and was using it to mop the larger mans face. He kept muttering soothing words to him, telling him that it would all be alright. They all knew it was a lie. Eric Cartman’s life would never be alright again. 

“How long’s he been like this?” Craig asked. 

“Just a minute or two,” Token said. 

“He just suddenly woke up,” Clyde said. “Scared the fucking life out of us, man.” 

“ _Gah!!_ Wh-what does this – _ahhh!!_ – What does this m-mean?” Tweek stuttered, his terrified eyes large and exploring Craig face as if answers were hidden somewhere between his high cheekbones and the dark hair that poked out from underneath his hat. 

“Nothing good,” Craig said, moving over to Cartman and leaning down to examine his face. Cartman’s brown eyes stopped swivelling and focused on Craig’s blue pair with a terrifying intensity. His lips moved again and Craig frowned, but if he heard what the larger man was trying to say, he didn’t tell anyone. 

“Is he going to turn?” Stan asked, his voice almost calm. He and Kyle sat on the floor a little distance away. Stan had his arm around Kyle, who was hunched up, head in his knees, hands threaded through his red hair. His trademark hat was lying on the dusty floor, abandoned. 

“Yes,” Craig said blandly. He glanced down at his watch. It had only been half an hour since he’d last checked it. “It’ll probably happen between midnight and one.”

“So what do we do?” Token asked. 

“We’re not killing him.” Kyle’s voice was a little muffled as he didn’t raise his head from his knees. However, it was firm, filled with authority that halted any arguments before they could leave anyone’s mouth. 

“Of course we’re not,” Butters agreed.

“Then we need to lock him up,” Craig said in monotone. 

“ _Wah!_ It’s TOO MUCH PRESSURE, MAN!” Suddenly, there was a crashing sound from a room over. Tweek’s feet actually left the floor as he jumped. “WAHHHHHH!”

Immediately alert, Craig moved over to the door, his eyes narrowed. Looking a little hesitant, Token and Clyde moved over to join him. They shared a silent look that agreed they would take on the intruder together and sunk against the wall, letting the gloom eat them alive, ready to spring out at a seconds notice. 

Footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, moving slowly.

“Oh man, we’re going to be killed. We’re gunna die! Christ, the werewolf found us and we’re gunna die! But then, what if it’s the government and they know we know about the werewolves and they’re gunna kill us first?!” Tweek was off on one of his nervous rants, tugging at his hair as he freaked out. 

“Somebody shut him up,” Craig hissed. A terrified looking Butters momentarily abandoned Cartman in order to rush over to his panicking friend. He put an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey now, it’s going to be okay, you hear, fella?” he said softly. His kind words didn’t work so Butters shoved his hand over Tweek’s mouth instead. 

They all stood with baited breathes as the footsteps got louder. Craig readied his stance, his two friends following suit. 

The door opened. Craig shifted his footing –

“-Wait!” Stan cried, relief flooding his voice. From his position across from the room, he and Kyle were the only ones who could actually see who had opened the door. “It’s just Kenny. Where’ve you been, man?”

Kenny McCormick entered the room. 

Tweek screamed against Butters mouth.

 

“What the hell, man?” Craig demanded, slamming Kenny into the wall. They were in the corridor, away from the others, just the three of them: Craig, Kenny and Tweek. 

“What are you on about?” Kenny asked, frowning. 

“Gahh!! You… Didn’t you… WAHH!! It’s TOO MUCH PRESSURE!” Tweek screamed and tugged violently at his hair. 

“You died,” Craig said coldly. Kenny’s frown morphed into something unreadable. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“He was sent a picture, man!” Tweek squealed. His saucer eyes hadn’t left Kenny once. They were full or terror and wonder and confusion and happiness and Kenny struggled to meet them. “Well, I mean, I think he was?” Doubt clouded Tweek’s voice. Now that Tweek stopped to think about it, he wasn’t sure whether that had really happened or not. It was all so confusing and way too much pressure. 

“Care to let me go and show me?” Kenny asked coolly. Craig looked the slightly shorter man up and down suspiciously. He was dressed in his orange parka with not a single drop of blood on it. Then again, in the picture he’d been dressed as Mysterion, no orange parka in sight. 

After a moment of internal deliberation, Craig released the scruff of Kenny’s neck and reached for his phone. He opened his texts and clicked on the latest one. The message still existed, except, _well_ , it was empty. There was no photo attached. 

“What the fuck?” Craig breathed. His phone had been on his person since receiving the text, there was no way anyone could have sneakily deleted the photo. It just didn’t make sense. 

“Well?” Kenny demanded. 

Craig rounded back on the blond, anger in his eyes. “What did you do?”

Kenny held up his hands. “I didn’t _do_ anything, dude.” He raised his left hand and ran it through his sandy locks. “Look man, I get why Tweek still remembers – he always does for a bit – but why do _you_ remember?” 

“What are you talking about?”

“ _Gah_!! Y-yeah,” Tweek agreed, looking a startling mix of terrified and curious.

Kenny sighed. He brought his foot up to the wall, casually leaning as he seemed to consider what to tell them. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t die,” he said. 

“WHAT?” Tweek roared. “Oh Jesus Christ! This is too much. I can’t handle this! _Nngh_!!” Kenny reached out and ruffled the shorter blonds hair. Craig stiffened at the action, his eyes narrowing a little. Kenny didn’t fail to miss it. A sly smirk spread across his face. 

“What do you mean you can’t die?” Craig demanded. 

“Just what I said,” Kenny shrugged, “I’ve experienced death countless of times but then I always wake up again in my bed as if it never happened. People don’t remember, so why do you?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously although the smile didn’t falter from his lips.

“Gah! Must be a w-werewolf thing,” Tweek reasoned and then screamed as he realised what he’d just said. 

“A what thing?” Kenny arched an eyebrow although, surprisingly, he didn’t look too shocked. It was as if it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the news. Then again, he had just been murdered by a werewolf so maybe that had softened the blow a little?

“Never mind that, I want more explanation. What exactly do you mean? And if you claim people can’t remember it happening then why can Tweek?”

“Tweek’s special,” Kenny said fondly, although his tone was tinted with sadness too. “I think it’s something to do with his anxiety and paranoia. I dunno. Either way, every time it’s happened and Tweek’s know about it, he freaks out when he sees me for the first time.”

“I don’t remember this,” Tweek said, shuddering violently. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” Kenny agreed. “You only remember for a little bit and then whatever magic it is that wipes my death from everyone’s mind finally gets you, too.”

“Oh God – They’re in my head?!” Tweek freaked out, tugging hard at his strands of hair almost as if he believed he could rip the intruders out of his head. Kenny reached out to stop him. 

“Tweekers,” he said softly, holding on to Tweek’s hands in a way that made Craig’s blood boil, though his face betrayed no such emotion. “It’s a good thing. You don’t want to remember what you saw, right?” 

“Nnnggghhh,” Tweek shuddered violently. “But – ”

“He’s right, Tweek,” Craig said stoically. “I wish I could forget that image.” And boy did he. Seeing that photo of Kenny, viciously mauled to death because of him had hurt like fuck. Hurt worse, even, than being turned into a werewolf and that had been pretty goddamn bad. They had been lucky that it had been Kenny struck down and not one of the other men. Craig could almost laugh at how easily he was accepting that Kenny McCormick was immortal. Then again, immortal wasn’t much more of a stretch that being a werewolf. God, it was like the start of some bad joke. _An immortal and a werewolf walked into a bar…_

Casting his far too wide eyes between his two friends, Tweek finally nodded in agreement, decided that maybe, just this once, somebody getting inside his head to get rid of bad memories wasn’t such a bad thing. 

“So, what’d I miss?” Kenny asked, back to his usual bright and cheerful self. Of course… he’d missed a lot. Craig and Tweek exchanged a look. Kenny frowned. “…What?”

“There’sawerewolfanditbitCartmanandnowhemightdieandAHHHH!!!” Tweek said without breath. Kenny took a moment to let Tweek’s hurried words sink in – a skill he’d mastered over the years – his frown deepening as the words meaning registered.

“Cartman’s hurt?” Obviously, the boy in the parka hadn’t noticed his largest friend on the sofa when he’d arrived. In fairness, Craig had dragged him away pretty sharpish. Tweek nodded at Kenny’s question and an unreadable look spread across the taller blonds face. “Take me to him.”

“How did you know where to find us?” Craig asked as he led the way back to the room Cartman was in. 

“Stan sent me, like, one hundred texts or something,” Kenny shrugged, his face still pinched with worry. At least he’d let go of Tweek, Craig noted. Not that Craig necessarily had the right to be jealous. 

They returned to the room and Kenny swept over to Cartman’s side, joining Butters who looked pale, a worried frown etched across his face. Craig watched with interest how, after checking Cartman over and exchanging hushed words with the smaller blond, Kenny took Butters hand in his own. Huh, maybe he didn’t have anything to worry about with Tweek and Kenny after all. Then again, Kenny had always been a very touchy-feely person. Craig shook his head. These kind of thoughts just shouldn’t be plaguing his mind right now. There were way more important issues at hand.

He glanced at his watch. Midnight was creeping closer. 

“We need to put Cartman in a secure room,” he said. Everyone looked up at him, surprised. “If we’re not killing him – ”

“-Of course we’re not killing him!” Kenny looked appalled at the suggestion. 

“-Then he needs to be locked up,” Craig finished as if Kenny hadn’t spoken. 

Nobody argued. Why would they? They may not have seen the wolf that injured him but they could see Cartman’s injuries plain as day. None of them wanted that to happen to themselves. 

It wasn’t hard to find a suitable room. They were in the perfect place after all. Mephesto had done all sorts of crazy experiments in this place although, admittedly, the weird mans favoured experiment was to add extra arses to animals and people. Nobody had ever quite understood why. 

“Somebody should probably stay with him, until, you know…” Craig said calmly, his deep voice as emotionless as ever. They all exchanged worried looks.

“Why?” Kenny asked.

“This isn’t a precise science,” Craig said. “Anything could happen. I’m almost one hundred percent that he _will_ turn, but there’s always that small chance that he’ll die first. Would _you_ want to be alone when you were dying?” He lowered his gaze as the words slipped out. Kenny _had_ been alone when he was dying. 

“I’ll stay,” Kyle said finally, a look of determination plastered across his face. 

“Then I’m staying too,” Stan said. Kyle looked at the noirette in surprise but, at Stan’s determined look, he just nodded and smiled. 

“Okay, then the rest of us need to tear this place apart. See if we can find any tranquillisers or whatnot. Anything useful,” Kenny said, taking charge. Craig had to admit, he was grateful. He didn’t like being a leader, didn’t like talking if he could help it. So far this night had been too stressful, he’d had to try too hard. He just wanted to step back but, seeing as this was his mess, he hadn’t felt as if he were able. 

So it was decided. Stan and Kyle would stay with Cartman (leaving the heavy metal door wide open for a quick getaway) and the others would search the old, abandoned building for anything they might use to help or use against their about-to-be-werewolf friend. 

They walked down the corridor in pairs: Kenny and Butters, Tweek and Craig, Clyde and Token. The silence would have been welcoming if not for the thousands of unasked questions that hung in the air. Craig could feel them as if they were physical, punching him in the chest, demanded to be answered. He could also feel the burning of gazes in the back of his head; Clyde was staring at him with eyes that may as well be daggers. 

He sighed. “What?” Craig didn’t turn around as he asked the question. 

“What do you mean, what?” Clyde demanded, apparently understanding that the question was directed at him. 

“You’re staring.”

“And you’re an asshat.”

“An asshat?” Craig cocked an eyebrow in amusement, touching his hand to Tweek’s arm to calm the bruised man who had squealed at Clyde’s accusation. 

“That was pretty weak, man,” Token said, a small smile in his voice. 

“Seemed appropriate considering where we are,” Clyde grumbled. “Seriously, though. What the fuck, man?” Clyde stopped walking. It took the others a moment to realise, but then they stopped too. Craig turned to face the shorter man.

“You coming swanning back here bringing a shitstorm of trouble and no apology is what.” 

“I’m sorry I’ve put you all in danger.”

“Not that, asshole! I was your best friend, goddamnit, and you just vanished! I was fucking ten-years-old and my best friend just vanished into the night and never got in touch. Do you know how shitty that made me feel? But oh no, I wasn’t allowed to show it because I had to deal with the wreck that was Tweek that you also fucking left behind!” 

Tweek squealed. 

“Do you know how hard those next few months were? How little sleep I got because you decided to just up and fuck off?”

“Dude,” Token said softly, a slight warning in his tone. He nodded towards Tweek whose eyes, if at all possible, had gotten even wider but Clyde ignored him. He was too angry right now to be considerate. 

“I w-was that much of a – _nngh_ – hassle?” Tweek asked quietly, his wide eyes sad. _Ohgod, I ruined his life! I’m such a terrible person. I’m a terrible friend. I should just run away and get out of everyone’s life because they’d be so much better without me and I’m awful and I probably deserve to die and –_

Tweek’s internal monologue became too much to bare and, with a scream, the blond took off down the corridor, ignoring the calls of his name, perhaps not even hearing them at all. 

“Crap,” Clyde said. “I didn’t mean – ” Craig looked at him and Clyde fell silent, his gaze dropping guiltily to the floor. 

“Kenny,” Craig said, “you and Butters go after Tweek.” 

Kenny tilted his head in surprise. “You sure, dude?”

“I think I’m needed here right now,” Craig said, not taking his eyes off Clyde. 

With a nod, Kenny and Butters took off after Tweek, calling out his name as they hurried away from the other three men. 

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/139273360@N08/26097087837/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KENNY’S ALIVE!!! _Of course_ I was going to keep him immortal guys but, oh boy, I had fun leaving you wondering for a bit :P There was a small hint if you looked hard enough (the pairing Kenny/Butters is in the tags - that can’t happen if Kenny’s dead :P) 
> 
> Now I’m desperately gunna try and get another chapter written but Jesus Christ, I’m finding it hard right now, even though I know where this is going/how it’s gunna end now. And the end is nigh. I can write 90k word original stories but for some reason with fanfics I struggle past 30k. This particular story should end between 40/50k (making it, officially, my longest ever fanfic) so it’ll be a short novel which I think is acceptable. I’d have liked it to be longer but, with my current motivation, that seems very unlikely. Don’t worry though, it’s already longer than I expected it to be when I started it, so it shouldn’t be rushed or anything. 
> 
> Any comments/kudos are _always_ appreciated :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate this chapter, so apologies if it is as bad as I think it is :( Still suffering from a block on this fic. It’s _killing_ me, man :(

Kenny and Butters couldn’t find Tweek. The old building was huge and there were so many hidey-holes down the labyrinth-like corridors that their task was seemingly more and more impossible. It didn’t help that the coffee-addict had had enough of a head start that it just meant there was all the more chance that Tweek had fled the building and was halfway to Stark’s pond by now. Somehow, though, Kenny doubted that was the case. Tweek was too afraid of monsters to purposefully run out into the dark, alone, where he _knew_ a monster was lurking. 

Huffing out a loud sigh, Kenny realised he was annoyed. He was annoyed at Clyde for not thinking before running his mouth and he was annoyed at himself for even hesitating before chasing after Tweek. He was annoyed at Craig, too, but something told him he would always be infuriated with the noirette from now on so he tried not to dwell on that particular irritation too much. 

“Well, gee, where d’ya think he coulda gone?” Butters twisted his fingers together before him as he walked, his blue eyes scanning the gloom carefully, trying to spot any signs of their twitchy little friend. 

Kenny sighed again, shoving his hands into his pockets. If Tweek really, truly didn’t want to be found then there was a good chance they would never find him. The thought of Tweek, alone and terrified in this old building made him clench his fists so hard he could feel his nails pierce his skin. No… Kenny wouldn’t accept defeat. Tweek was here somewhere. And if he were _somewhere_ then that meant he _could_ be found. 

“Don’t worry, Butterscotch, we’ll find him.” The words were more for his own sake than Butters and the shorter blond knew it. 

“Of course we will,” Butters said brightly, no doubt in his mind. Sometimes, Kenny thought Butters had grown out of his naivety, others, he wasn’t so sure. The smaller man was so trusting, sometimes _too_ trusting. He was also way too happy for somebody who had grown up with the amount of abuse that Butters had. Then again, perhaps he was just strong. Kenny liked to believe that it was strength. That deep down Butters wasn’t tethering on the edge, close to breaking. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if he discovered that Butters, like Tweek, was fighting an internal battle he was doomed to lose. 

Kenny wasn’t sure when he and Butters had gotten so close. He couldn’t recall when Butters words started to hold such sway over him. Butters could calm him with just a few simple words and he had Kenny wrapped around his little finger to boot. When had that happened? Kenny was the one who kept people wound around his finger, manipulating and flirting to get his own way and yet Butters, with different tactics than the immortals own, had managed to claim dominance. 

Perhaps Butters had taken his hold the first time they shared a kiss. Kenny had been tired, he’d had a long shift at work and then had to spend two hours coaxing Tweek out of his closet. By the time he’d gotten home he had been more than a little irritated to find Butters waiting for him on the front step. He’d tried to send the blond home but Butters was having none of it. 

“Well, look. You’ve not been eating or sleeping properly and I think it’s high time I did some thing about it,” Butters had said. And that had been that. He’d let Butters in, glad that his parents weren’t home and had let the smaller boy cook for him, too. It hadn’t been half bad, either. Then, somehow, Kenny had ended up falling asleep with his head in Butters lap. They’d shared a sleepy kiss when he’d woken and for that brief moment, Kenny hadn’t thought about Tweek. Of course, later Tweek had slipped back into his mind and he’d felt irrationally guilty despite Tweek being completely oblivious to his unreciprocated feelings. Butters wasn’t anywhere near as oblivious but not once had he ever complained about sharing Kenny’s heart. That was Butters all over, really. 

He watched the shorter man as they walked down the gloomy corridors. Now that Craig was back, and Tweek so clearly wanted to resume where they’d left off all those years ago, Kenny wondered what it would be like to return to a semi-normal lifestyle. A lifestyle where he could, perhaps, be in a normal and happy relationship. A relationship with Butters. 

“Gee, Kenny, you’re staring,” Butters said, although he didn’t turn to look at Kenny. 

“Well, my dear Butterscotch, you’re just so cute, I can’t help it.” That was another thing. Around Tweek, Kenny always felt that he had to be so serious, alert and ready for the next breakdown. Around Butters, he could just be himself. It wasn’t that he minded it, he was happy to be the person Tweek relied on but, saying that, it was nice to catch a break from time to time. By nature, Kenny was a playful flirt. He like a little fun in his life. Around Tweek, he didn’t feel like he could be that person. 

“Now really, Kenny,” Butters reprimanded. “I think right now we should be focusing on Tweek. Poor little fella is all alone in this scary building after all.”

“We _are_ focusing on Tweek.”

“Well, gee, that seemed a real lot like you were flirting with me is all I’m saying.” Kenny frowned. Sometimes Butters was cute. Other times, he was damn right annoying. 

They fell silent. The sound of their shoes tapping along the hard floors echoed around them but otherwise there was no noise. If Kenny wasn’t used to these kinds of buildings thanks to his role as Mysterion it would almost be creepy. He glanced at Butters but the smaller man only looked determined. When had he gotten so brave? 

It was a squeal of fright that finally alerted them to Tweek’s presence. He was hiding in one of the many nocks and crannys dotted around the place. The darkness engulfed him and he was curled up so small that if it hadn’t of been for the squeal from the coffee-deprived man they would have likely missed him. 

“AHH!” Tweek screamed as they came to a stop in front of him, burying his head deeper into his knees. Kenny smiled sadly and knelt down, reaching out to thread his fingers through Tweek’s hair. The blond lifted tear streaked cheeks, his wide eyes wobbling as they registered that it was only Kenny and not some alien-monster that wanted to eat him. 

Kenny didn’t miss the look of fleeting disappointment as Tweek realised that while he and Butters might not be human eating monsters, neither were either of them Craig. The taller blond tried to push away the feelings that stirred within him. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. 

“Hey there, fella,” Butters said, ever brightly. “How’re you doing?” Tweek just squealed in response but Butters didn’t seem too put out. They were all more than used to Tweek by now. 

“Clyde didn’t mean anything against you, Tweekers,” Kenny said, running his hands through Tweek’s hair gently. “He was just angry at Craig.”

“ _Wahh!!_ He’s completely right, man!” Tweek said miserably into his knees. “I’m such a burden. I’m screwed – _nngh_ – up and all of you have to deal with it and you’d be better off without me and I should probably just go ahead and die and leave you – ” He cut off as Kenny’s hand moved from his hair to force his chin up. 

“Don’t ever say that,” he all but growled. “Don’t you dare think that you’re better off dead or that we’re better off without you.” 

“But – ”

“There are no ifs and buts,” Kenny said in a voice that suggested that settled everything. He held out his hand and Tweek stared at it as if he might grow a mouth and bite him. Finally, he reached out a shaky hand of his own and placed it in Kenny’s. The taller man smiled and stood, dragging Tweek up with him. When they were standing, Kenny wrapped his arms around the slender man, hugging him tightly. Tweek stiffened a little, surprised by the contact; he’d spent the past however long convincing himself that he was nothing but a burden and that his friends hated him. As usual, his internal monologue was proven wrong. One of these days, maybe he’d stop listening to the voices in his head… 

 

Clyde had forgotten just how hard it was to read Craig Tucker. The taller man stood staring at him with a blank look across his face that could have meant anything. For all Clyde knew, his ex-best-friend-come-werewolf was about to horribly kill him. Only Token’s presence to his left helped keep him calm. Craig wouldn’t kill him with Token as a witness… probably. 

Slowly, the stoic raven haired man flipped him off. Clyde couldn’t help but smile. There was the Craig he still remembered so vividly. There was the boy he’d hung out with every lunch time and spent so many weekends sleeping over at one of their houses. 

“I didn’t mean what I said about Tweek, man.”

“I get it,” Craig said in his usual monotone. “He’s a lot. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Did he used to let himself into your house in the middle of the night and scare you awake by screaming?” Clyde wanted to know. 

Craig actually smiled. “I’d forgotten he did that.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget,” Token muttered but he, too, had a small smile on his lips.

“Scared the heck out of me every time.” Clyde laughed. 

“Look guys,” Craig said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. They both remembered how hard it had been for their friend to communicate at age ten. It didn’t seem he’d gotten much better in the years that followed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch. I wanted to, I even tried to… That ended fucking badly.”

“What do you mean?” Clyde asked, frowning. 

Craig sighed. “The first month after my parents dragged Tricia and I away, I kept desperately trying to get back, or contact you guys somehow. My parents took my phone and kept me away from any kind of computer so it was tricky. They also had us in the middle of nowhere with no damn signal for miles so that didn’t help. 

“Then one day I saw a chance and I took it and it got me bit.”

“Shit, dude.” 

“After that I pretty much decided I was best staying as far away from everyone as possible. I didn’t want the same to happen to you guys and I figured you’d all just move on and forget about me soon enough anyway.”

“Sorry to say, dude, but Tweek definitely didn’t move on which meant none of us could, either,” Token said calmly. He didn’t even look mad. 

“I couldn’t have known that,” Craig said, although he still felt incredibly guilty. This was all his fault. But then, if he’d have come back, it could have been worse in other ways. People could have died or been bitten. It was bad enough that Cartman was turning into a creature of the moon as they spoke. If he’d have come back earlier it could have been so much worse. At least now his friends were prepared. They knew what was at stake. Could he have expected them to truly understand that at ten? 

“But here’s what I don’t get. Why is this happening now? What did you come back for? Did the wolf come here first or did it follow you?” Trust Token to always think of those sorts of questions, the very ones that Craig wished he didn’t have to answer. It had been hard enough telling Tweek this stuff. Still, they deserved to know everything and so Craig repeated his story, going into a little more detail than he’d been willing to with innocent Tweek. He shared about his toxic relationship, admitting how exciting it had been original but how it had quickly descended into something from a horror movie. As per usual Craig style, he used as few words as possible while somehow sharing an accurate retelling of his life for the past nine years. 

“So you screwed over this guy and now he’s coming after us because of it?” Clyde’s eyes were wide and unreadable. Craig hoped he didn’t hate him again (if he’d even stopped hating him at all in the first place).

“Well, I think he was only coming for Tweek originally, but then I kept screwing things up and saving Tweek.”

“It seems like a lot of effort,” Token mused. 

“Yeah, well, this son of a bitch is used to getting what he wants. He’s pack leader, after all.” 

“Ah.” Ah, indeed. There it was. The reason they were all royally screwed. Craig had pissed of the alpha in a pack of vicious werewolves. And, not just a leader but a psychopath who could give Eric Cartman a run for his money. If Clyde and Token hadn’t already hated him, Craig was sure they probably did now.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve been thinking about Kenny today. He needs more screen time in the show, he’s such a wonderful character with SO much potential. He’s by far one of the most interesting and complex characters in South Park. I know one of the reasons he doesn’t get featured much is because Matt Stone is fed up of doing his mumbled voice. So, I was thinking, why not have an episode where Kenny realises he no longer needs to hide his face and finally lowers that hood of his? I know I’d support it fully. #UnhoodKennyMcCormick !Haha, sorry that’s the kind of thoughts I have while I suffer through a boring shift at work.
> 
> Anyway... without further ado... *back away slowly*

Stan held his boyfriend close, his arm slung over his shoulder, pulling him tightly against him in a way he hadn’t done in what felt like far too long. The red head had his knees up, hugging them to his chest with his chin buried deep into their peaks. The young Jewish man couldn’t help but think that this was all his fault. If his interaction with Cartman had perhaps gone a little better that evening, perhaps the idiot wouldn’t have decided to go for a walk alone in the goddamn dark when there was a wolf outside attacking people! It was bullshit. 

“Kyle,” Stan was saying, “it’ll be okay. None of this is your fault.” Kyle was pretty sure than Stan could read his mind. Then again, it was probably more to do with the fact they they had been best friends since they were babies and it was hard _not_ to know somebody that well when you’d been through a lifetime of shit together. 

“Do you think I should have agreed to killing him?” the red head asked his knees. 

“What? _God no_!” 

“But you seemed for it at the time.” Kyle finally looked up, his eyes meeting Stan’s. They were red and puffy and imploring. He needed to know he’d done the right thing, needed to be told he hadn’t just condemned South Park to its very own monster. South Park had enough of those already. For a place that had the _actual_ Jesus Christ living in it, a lot of weird shit happened in their quiet mountain town. 

“I humoured the idea for a second because I was scared,” Stan said. “You were right, though. What would that make us?”

“But we’re going to be releasing a monster on South Park.”

“Cartman’s already a monster, dude,” Stan pointed out. He lifted his hand from Kyle’s shoulder to lightly play with a red curl that had sprung loose from under Kyle’s hat. Despite the terrible situation, it was nice just being together like this. The past week had been hell. Stan had hated being mad at Kyle but he was stubborn. Too stubborn for his own good sometimes. They both were. It made arguments between them just that little harder to resolve. That said, resolve them they did. Nothing could keep Stan and Kyle – super best friends and soul mates – apart, not even Eric Cartman. _Especially_ not Eric Cartman. Stan could have almost laughed as he realised it had taken Cartman almost dying for him to realise that. 

Kyle buried his head into Stan’s shoulder, relishing in the touch to his hair. He’d missed this. He’d missed _them_. Their hands threaded together and they stayed like that, snuggled side by side in silence for some time. They didn’t need to talk, just being near one another was comfort enough. Besides, what could either of them really say at a time like this? Idle chatter seemed kind of wrong right now, while Cartman withered in pain behind them, his body unsuccessfully fighting what was happening to it. 

Kyle turned as Cartman let out a long moan. “Dude, he’s in real pain.” 

“Hopefully the others will be back soon with something to help…” Stan’s eyes flickered nervously between the flailing man and the wide open door. 

“What if they don’t get back before – ” Kyle cut off nervously. Stan knew what he meant, though. Of course he knew, the thought of it was tormenting them both. 

“Then we get out of here and lock the goddamn door behind us.” Truth be told, Stan wasn’t sure why they hadn’t done that already. What was the point in staying here when the injured man clearly wasn’t lucid enough to appreciate it? If anything, they were only putting themselves in danger. The only reason he didn’t say anything was because Kyle seemed so cut up about the whole situation. As if to further his point, the red head shifted away from Stan’s side, moving over to Cartman and gripping his hand. 

“You’re okay,” he said soothingly. “The others will be back soon.” Stan watched the pair with hard eyes. Logically, he knew Kyle would be behaving the same no matter who it was lying on the tattered sofa, be it Butters, Kenny, himself or even someone like Craig who had been absent from their lives for so long. Still, he couldn’t fight the clenching feeling in his gut as he watched Kyle gripping Cartman’s hand. After the week they’d had, watching _that_ wasn’t helping to sooth his worries. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t say anything, though, because he _knew_ that even if Kyle was in love with their larger friend, he loved Stan more. And, if it came to it, Stan was sure Kyle would pick him if forced to choose. That was enough, it had to be. 

“You forget that I know you so well,” Kyle said, not turning to face Stan though it was obvious it was him he was talking to. “I can practically hear you grinding your teeth.”

“What do you expect?” Stan bit back before he could stop himself. “…Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I would be exactly the same if our positions were reversed. If this was, say, you and Wendy, I would have probably ground my teeth to stubs by now.” Stan couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“We’re terrible,” he agreed. 

Kyle turned to flash him a brilliant smile. “You’ve nothing to worry about, Stan. I love _you_. I always have and I always will. Cartman was just… God, I don’t even know,” he cut of, laughing miserably. “You were with Wendy and it cut me up and Cartman was just there and…”

“Seriously, you don’t have to explain.” Stan wasn’t sure he _wanted_ him to explain. “I shouldn’t have let myself get so angry about it. It’s just that you lied to my face, y’know?”

“And I am so sorry about that.” There was nothing but honesty shining in Kyle’s emerald eyes. Honesty and perhaps a little regret. Stan nodded. It had been stupid for him to worry, stupid for him to be jealous. Kyle was his and always would be and, if anything, he should be mad at himself for taking longer to realise that than Kyle. He couldn’t really be angry at Kyle for finding comfort in somebody else while he himself had been stuck in his on-again-off-again relationship with his elementary school sweetheart. Especially as, at fifteen, he’d told Kyle repeatedly he was going to break up with Wendy before he finally got the nerve to do it, a year later. Nearly a year too late. How could he really stay mad at Kyle when he had nearly screwed them out of _this_. This was everything. He would never have forgiven himself if he’d acted too late. Stan doubted Kyle would ever have forgiven him, either. 

Yes, it sucked that that the person Kyle found comfort in was Cartman of all people but then, he, himself, had always suspected it might happen. There had always been way too much fire between the pair. Kenny had once joked that they would either kill one another or fuck. They had chosen the latter, so fucking what? Stan would always prefer the knowledge of that than the grave he’d have been forced to visit had they chosen the former. 

A small, weak voice broke the moment. Kyle tore his eyes away from Stan’s, instantly focusing on Cartman. Stan moved quickly over as well. As much as he sometimes hated the guy, Cartman _was_ one of his best friends and Stan honestly did care that he was hurting so badly. 

“What is it?” Kyle asked softly, squeezing Cartman’s fat fingers. 

“H-urts… Kahl…”

“I know,” Kyle said. He turned back to Stan. “You have to go find the others. Maybe they’ve found something but are still searching in case there’s more.”

“But – ” Stan started to protest but Kyle was having none of it. 

“Look at him, Stan! He’s in serious pain.” 

Stan looked at Cartman. His face was chalk white with sweat pooling down it. Puffy, red eyes darted around in his sockets as if he couldn’t focus on anything and dark circles lined them. His lips were dry and cracked, moving in silent conversation. Every few seconds his face would contort in pure agony, spasms rolling through his body. 

“Okay. I’ll go check but I’m not hanging around. If they haven’t found anything I’m coming straight back.”

“Of course,” Kyle nodded, “just tell them to hurry.” 

Stan bit his lips hesitantly but Kyle was right. If they could do anything to make this easier for Cartman, they needed to. It made it easier if he imagined Kyle was the one withering in pain. Stan would do anything to stop Kyle hurting. 

Leaning forward to press a quick kiss against the red heads lips, Stan promised he’d be back in a moment and then, reluctantly, left. 

“Kahl…” Cartman moaned, his brown eyes still darting around the room, as if he couldn’t find the other man.

“I’m right here, fatass,” Kyle said, trying to keep some normality in his voice. 

“- happening?” Cartman croaked, his mouth too dry to properly form the ‘what’s’.

“You’re hurt,” Kyle told him, squeezing his fingers. “Don’t worry, you’ll be better soon.”

Cartman’s eyes stopped their rapid movements, finally focusing on Kyle. He opened his mouth to say something but at that moment a spasm of pain engulfed him and his back arched, a harrowing cry escaping his lips instead of whatever words he had been about to convey.

Kyle watched, frozen in horror as Cartman withered and spasmed all the while howling out blood curdling screams. Somehow he came to his senses enough to manage to pry his hand free and stumble back a little, his gazed still transfixed on Cartman whose own hands had flown up to his face and seemed to be clawing at the flesh as if it were burning him. 

Kyle knew he should run, get out of the room and lock the door, but his feet wouldn’t work. He could only watch in horror as blood started to pool around Cartman’s fingers as he continued to claw at his face. It took Kyle a moment to register that the blood was coming from the ruined digits, which seemed to have burst open revealing shining oil-black claws beneath that tore into the flesh in his face, leaving jagged rips. Beneath the blood, instead of muscle or bones, was another face, a face that was distinctly not human. 

Clumps of bloodied flesh fell to the ground as Cartman shot up, still howling in agony. 

“C-Cartman?” Goddamn it, why wasn’t he running? He should be running!

Kyle started to back away but Cartman moved with agility a person of his size shouldn’t posses. His face, still half human under the blood and flaps of ruined flesh, was suddenly in Kyle’s. 

“H-hel – ” Cartman gurgled, his clawed fingers – not human but neither the paw of a wolf – curling around Kyle’s wrist, cutting him, _hurting_ him.

“I’ll get help,” Kyle cried, trying to pry his hand free. “Let me go and I’ll get help!” 

Cartman spasmed again, his body hunching in on itself as a screamed ripped from him almost loud enough to burst Kyle’s eardrums. The spasm caused him to lash out and Kyle cried out as pain flooded his chest. His chin dropped to see blood spreading across his top though the gashes that shredded the material. 

“Cartman you have to fight this!” he cried out, terrified, trying to fight the fear and pain. He needed to get out before the change completely overcame Cartman. He didn’t have long, a couple of seconds at most. 

Another spasm ravaged the larger man and Kyle took his chance but his movements were clumsy, blinded by fear and pain. His foot caught something and he face planted, painfully hitting his chin, causing him to see stars. 

“-yle!” His ears were ringing, making it difficult to hear. He pushed himself tentatively up, his vision swimming momentarily. As it focused, he noticed two things almost simultaneously. First, Stan was back, right down the other end of the long corridor, a panicked look on his face as he seemed frozen to the spot, his gaze behind Kyle at the other thing the red head noticed. 

Cartman had finished changing. No longer did a man stand behind Kyle, but a foaming-at-the-mouth, angry wolf. 

“KYLE!” 

In that moment, Kyle realised something. He could make it through the door but, if he did, it would also give the wolf enough time to escape too. If that happened, Kyle would die anyway and, worse, so would all his friends. So would Stan… Kyle couldn’t bear for Stan to die. 

As his raven haired boyfriend sprinted across the corridor towards him, Kyle took a deep breath, steeling himself. Green eyes met blue and Stan’s face lit up; Kyle was okay, he was getting to his feet, he was fine, he – 

Kyle slammed the door shut just before Stan could reach it. He collided heavily with it but Kyle was already using trembling fingers to twist the key in the lock. 

“KYLE!” Stan banged heavily on the glass. Although he couldn’t hear him through the reinforced glass, Kyle looked up. Their eyes locked again, and Kyle smiled softly and then, suddenly, there was a spray of blood. It stained the glass and the walls behind Kyle. The red heads mouth opened in surprised pain. “KYLE!!!” Stan fumbled with the door handle to no avail. He banged furiously on the glass, tears streaming down his face as he called the same name over and over again. _Kyle._

He couldn’t look away as Kyle was dragged to the floor. He couldn’t avert his eyes as the wolf ripped chunks of flesh from the flailing, screaming man. He couldn’t help as the wolf chewed down on Kyle’s face, disfiguring it with one swift snap of its jaws. All the while, Kyle was alive, his screams silent to Stan’s ears but echoing in his eyes. 

Stan could only watch, banging uselessly, _hopelessly,_ on the glass that separated them as the wolf finally clamped its teeth around Kyle’s throat. Blood pooled from puncture wounds, staining the floor a deep crimson. The wolf snapped its jaws and pulled back, ripping Kyle’s throat away with it

It all happened too quickly. It took merely seconds from Stan running to the door that slammed in his face, to Stan’s legs giving way. The floor rushed up to meet him, his head hitting the cold stone heavily. Stan didn’t feel a thing. He simply lay there, on the floor, his wide eyes replaying the horror over and over again as tears fell freely down his cheeks. 

His lips moved as he silently repeated Kyle’s name over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... so... This hurt me more than it hurt you? 
> 
> .... 
> 
> *cries in a corner*


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys!! I was expecting y’all to hate me after the last chapter but you were all so kind!! Thank you so much for the reviews and kudos!
> 
> Oh... Guess who’s got their mojo back and thinks this fic may be longer than I told you it would be... :P

They heard Stan’s scream even across the distance they’d put between them. Kenny started running instantly, leaving Butters and a jittery Tweek to follow in his wake. They almost collided with Craig, Clyde and Token along the way. 

“What d’you think happened?” Clyde asked as they ran but nobody answered. Nobody dared. To say it in words would only make it real before they were ready. They’d all heard the anguish in Stan’s cry but that didn’t mean they wanted to communicate via words what they thought that meant. 

They found Stan curled up on the floor, hugging his knees, his eyes blank above tear stained cheeks. He looked like he’d broken, as if something inside had just snapped and there was a chance it would never be fixable. 

“Stan?” Kenny asked quietly, his blue orbs fixated on his friend. He’d noticed the door behind Stan was closed but he hadn’t really focused on it yet. He didn’t until Clyde breathed out a “Holy shit.” 

The heavy duty metal door had a glass pane at eye level. When they had left Stan and Kyle that pane had been dusty but otherwise clear. Now, deep red splatters ran down it. The red seemed to form intricate patterns reminiscent of a work of modern art perhaps. The sort of art Kenny could look at for hours and see fuck all in, while someone like Kyle would see pain and hurt or fucking bunnies and sunshine or something. This time, however, Kenny could see the pain and hurt. It was written across the pane of glass in striking crimson. It was written across Stan’s blank face. It was written across Kenny’s heart.

He could see it, but he didn’t want to believe it. 

Kenny moved closer to the window, shrugging off Butters who fearfully grabbed for his arm. He was careful to step over Stan, who showed no indication that he was even aware Kenny was above him. Sucking in his cheeks, his breath hitched, Kenny stared through the glass.

A ferocious wolf suddenly bound up against it, its muzzle drawn back revealing teeth stained red with blood. A bit of green material was trapped between two teeth, flapping there, jagged and splattered in crimson. 

Kenny stumbled back, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. He knocked against Stan’s legs and tumbled backwards, falling on his ass. 

Other than involuntary squeals from Tweek, there was silence. A pin dropping to the floor could have been heard. 

And then that silence broke. 

“Holy shit,” Clyde gabbled, repeating it over and over again. The wolf that was Eric Cartman was still at the window, silently snarling at them with clumps of Kyle Broflovski stuck in its teeth. They couldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear the angry snarls and growls that reverberated from its throat, but they didn’t need to. Seeing it was enough. Seeing it turned their blood cold and froze their hearts solid until they shattered, the shards ripping at their insides.

Kyle was dead. And Cartman has killed him. 

Logically, of course, it wasn’t Cartman’s fault but, right now, logic wasn’t something the horrified men could listen too. Logic was something Stan Marsh might ever be able to listen to again, not when it came to Eric Cartman at least. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been the mans fault, it had still been his hands (or, more accurately, paws) that had shredded the Jewish man into a thousand little ribbons that decorated the room he’d perished in. 

Kyle would never again smile, nor laugh, nor kiss, nor cry and it was all Cartman’s fault.

Stan let out a low moan, a broken sound that stretched out seemingly forever. 

Butters and Tweek had tears streaming down their faces. Craig’s head was lowered, his expression hidden. Token had crouched down by Stan, his lips set tightly but his eyes betraying him. He didn’t say anything to Stan but simply laid a hand on the broken mans back, a fruitless attempt at comfort. Clyde simply couldn’t tear his wide, fearful eyes away from the snarling wolf, still clawing at the bloodied glass. 

Kenny seemed to have vanished entirely, leaving behind an empty shell that sat where he’d tripped over Stan, staring straight ahead but seeing nothing. There was no colour in his cheeks, no life in his face. Kenny McCormick wasn’t a stranger to death, having died more times than he could ever count. But he always came back. His parents had cursed him with that damn cult they’d joined. Kenny couldn’t die. Kyle could. There would be no coming back for the red head, not that Kenny could comprehend. He was gone and, with him, he’d taken them all too. 

It might have been only minutes or it may have been hours before Kenny felt his senses coming back to him, however muggy and heavy they were. Registering that the wolf had grown bored and abandoned its futile attempts to get to them, Kenny moved his gaze instead to Stan. 

Kenny didn’t know what to say, how to fix it, so he just crawled over to his broken friend and laid next to him, eye to eye, without saying a word. His hands found Stan’s and he took them, holding them tightly as if the dark haired man would disappear if he let him go. Stan couldn’t disappear, too. That would be too much. 

Eventually, the others left. Butters lingered, unwilling to part with Kenny, but the blond stayed back, sitting against a far wall in the gloom where he let silent tears streak his cheeks. He daren’t interrupt Stan and Kenny’s silent grieving. So he waited and he grieved, alone. 

 

“This is BULLSHIT!” Clyde slammed his fist into the wall, sending a shower of plaster down to the floor and leaving his knuckled bloodied and bruised. Tweek screamed out, shying away from his friend. 

“Clyde – ” Before Craig could say anything else, the brunet rounded on him, his eyes red and angry. 

“You should have just stayed away. None of this would have happened if you’d have just stayed away.”

“We don’t know that,” Token said, still trying to be the voice of reason, even now. “If Craig hadn’t of come and warned us, we might all be dead now.”

“But why are we in this mess in the first place, huh?” Clyde demanded angrily. “It’s because of him. It’s all because of him.”

“Clyde,” Token started, but Craig cut in. 

“He’s right. It’s my fault.”

“Craig,” Tweek said, his voice barely audible. His green eyes were shimmering with emotion and Craig found that he couldn’t meet them. He didn’t want Tweek to believe in him because Clyde was right, this was all his fault. He’d screwed up and he’d screwed up bad. He’d said some things in a fit of rage that he shouldn’t of and then, to make things worse, instead of just dealing with the wolf and leaving, he’d failed to do either and had, however unintentionally, landed the rest of his old friends in danger because of it. It didn’t matter that Kenny couldn’t stay dead, he’d still died. Cartman had been bitten, had been allowed to transform and had torn Kyle to shreds. All of that could have been prevented in Craig had just. Stayed. _Away._

“Goddamn it!” It was Craig’s turn to punch the wall. With the strength he possessed thanks to his supernatural nature, he caused a lot more damage than Clyde had, almost punching a hole right through the wall. His knuckles were caked with greying plaster and blood. Once again, Tweek squealed, which just made Craig feel all the worse. He’d been trying to protect Tweek but he was doing a crap job of it. 

He never should have returned to South Park. Hell, if he’d wanted to make sure Tweek was safe he could have sent somebody – _anybody_ – else. But no, he was selfish and he’d wanted to see his old boyfriend again and just look where that had gotten him! It was all so fucked up. 

“Do you – _nngh_ – think we s-should have left Stan and Kenny a-alone?” 

“Butters is with them,” Token said. 

“Butters looked just as broken as the pair of them,” Clyde grunted, still glaring at Craig. 

“We’re all torn up about this,” Token said. Despite his calm words, it was easy to see the pain behind his dark eyes. The black man may have been better at keeping his emotions in check than his friends, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have emotions just the same as them. “I don’t think there’s anything anyone can say or do right now to make it better.”

“Jesus, when Cartman turns back – ” Clyde trailed off and Token just nodded solemnly. Then, perhaps because talking was better than sitting in silence, Clyde continued to speak. “Stan told me why he was mad at them. Kyle and Cartman hooked up in high school a few times, before Kyle and Stan became a thing, obviously. But Kyle lied about it to Stan. Well, to all of us, I guess. I know I asked him at least once if anything had ever happened between them.”

“Kyle and Cartman, huh?” Craig said without emotion. “Is funny, I come back and all my old friends are suddenly gay. I remember what a big deal it was for me and Tweek.”

“Token and I aren’t gay,” Clyde said huffily, his voice still raw from pain despite the welcome distraction. “Kenny either.”

“Oh come off it,” Token chipped in. “He may not be homosexual, but Kenny is as pan as they get, and we all know he’s got a huge thing for Tweek.” Tweek squealed at that and Token laughed humourlessly. “Come on, Tweek, really? You must have noticed.”

“N-no!”

“Even I noticed,” Craig said in his usual monotone. “And I’ve only been back less than a week.”

“Gahh!! H-he can’t… Kenny’s not… He doesn’t… AHHHH! IT’S TOO MUCH PRESSURE!!” 

“Trust us, Tweekers, he’s totally into you,” Clyde said, though his smile didn’t meet his eyes. Their lighthearted conversation could only go so far to fix their broken spirits. It was like alcohol, providing a short high that would no doubt crash soon, leaving them, once again, broken and lost. 

“Though,” Token started, looking thoughtful. “I have to admit, it seems like he’s been spending a lot of time with Butters recently. He said anything to either of you?”

“Butters was with him when he came to my house earlier,” Tweek said, his eyes twitching. How long ago was his last mug of coffee? Too long ago if the violent tremble in his hands was anything to go by. 

“My point exactly. Maybe he’s finally starting to accept it’ll never happen? I think Butters could be good for him,” Token said. 

“Gah!! But’s he’s Kenny! He likes boobs and stuff!” 

“Kenny likes anything with a pulse.” 

Tweek squealed and lowered his head. He thought back to all the times Kenny had come to his rescue, saving him from himself. He’d never asked for anything in return but, could it be possible that he had hoped that, one day, he might get something? Tweek was too mental to want a relationship. Or, so he’d thought until Craig had returned. Now he wasn’t so sure what he wanted and the uncertainty was messing with his head. 

Despite Tweek’s discomfort he was glad they had managed to distract themselves from the horrors they had seen and the blame that had been thrown on Craig. If only it could last but, as with all things, it had to come to an end eventually. 

Craig doubled over, gasping out in pain. 

“AhhH! Craig?” Tweek was by his side in an instant. 

“Keep away!” Craig snapped, his gaze shooting up. Tweek staggered back from him, shocked and a little scared. Craig’s usually blue eyes had shifted to a bright golden colour that almost seemed ablaze. Clyde rushed over to Tweek, pulling him away from the werewolf and standing slightly in front of the smaller man protectively. 

“What the hell, man?” he demanded. 

Craig inhaled slowly, uncurling his fists which had been balled so tightly his knuckles had turned pure white. He took another deep breath in and out and his eyes slowly shifted back to their normal blue, if not a little flaked with gold.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice pained. “He’s trying to force me to change.”

“What?” Clyde paled. 

“As Alpha, he can, to some extent, control us. He must be close.”

“Why would he do that?” Token asked, although, from his tone, it was obvious he suspected the reason.

“He’s probably hoping I’ll – _ahh_ ,” Craig hissed in pain, “turn and rip you all to shreds.”

“Can you fight it?” Token asked seriously.

“I can try.”

“We need to lock you away, to be sure,” Clyde said.

“No!” Tweek squealed. “We can’t do – _nngh!!_ – that!”

“That’s exactly what you _need_ to do,” Craig said. “Do you want to end up like Kyle?” It was a low blow and Craig knew it, but he needed them to see how serious the situation was. If he couldn’t fight the change, he would kill them all before they had a chance to escape. 

Tweek remained stubborn. Sighing and rubbing at his eyes, Craig tried to think the situation through, all the while gritting his teeth against the pain rolling through his body. Transforming into a wolf sucked. It hurt like fuck, as was to probably be imagined when your body was bending and breaking into something it wasn’t meant to be. Having mastered his ‘condition’ years ago, Craig was usually able to only transform when the moon was at its very roundest. However, the urge to comply with the pack leaders wishes was strong, even if the pack leader was a fucking asshole and Craig wished him dead. The noirette wasn’t sure how long, if at all, he would be able to resist the change. He wasn’t that strong. Deep inside, he was still a frightened ten-year-old boy who didn’t understand what was happening to him or what he’d done to deserve it. 

As another wave of pain rolled over him, causing him to double over, Craig managed to grunt out instructions to Token and Clyde, who watched him in horror. “Take Tweek and go.”

They tried to oblige, they really did. Craig couldn’t fault their attempts. However, Tweek could be fucking savage when he wanted to be. For a tiny, feminine man, he seemed to be able to pack a punch. Craig couldn’t help but recall the time he’d fought Tweek, back before they were even friends. Even then, Tweek had been a force to be reckoned with. 

“Jesus, Tweek!” Clyde complained, rubbing his bruised cheek. “We’re only trying to help.”

“I won’t leave him,” Tweek said firmly, his voice surprisingly steady. 

Craig grunted in pain. “Fine,” he gasped out. “I think I know where we can go.”

 

The room Craig led them to was one of the less dilapidated of the building. It was a large room, but had been divided in half by a glass wall that, Craig assured them, was reinforced. There was a speaker that miraculously still worked, meaning each side of the glass could communicate with one another. For what they wanted, it was perfect. Tweek could stay but he’d be safe. Sure, they couldn’t touch but, really, Craig shouldn’t want to be touching him anyway. The fact that he wanted to hold the smaller mans hand or run his fingers through that thick, blond birds nest that crowned his head was wrong on so many levels. Craig was a monster, Tweek had said as much. Tweek had enough monsters in his life, he didn’t need another. 

“You two should go check on the others,” Craig said to Token and Clyde. Was it so wrong that he wanted to spend some time alone with Tweek?

Token sucked in his cheeks, staring uncertainty at Craig before nodding. Clyde looked less enthusiastic about the idea. He bit his lip and folded his arms across his broad chest, a stubborn glint in his brown eyes. The bruise on his cheek was colouring nicely and Craig noticed that Tweek was looking anywhere but at it. 

“I’ll be – _nngh_ – fine.”

“I don’t like it,” Clyde said, glaring at Craig. Craig should have known an apology wouldn’t cut it. Clyde was stubborn. He was also a bloody good friend, even if that friendship no longer extended fully to Craig. And, being a bloody good friend, he wasn’t the type of guy who would leave Tweek in danger. Especially as the larger man felt as if he had a lot to make up for. He’d upset Tweek earlier with his anger fuelled words that had sprayed from his mouth like vomit. 

“I won’t be able to hurt him.”

“You don’t have to touch him to hurt him,” Clyde pointed out coldly. _Ouch._ True though.

“Clyde, I think we should go,” Token said reasonably. “As long as they stay at opposite sides of the glass, Tweek won’t be in any danger. They have a lot they should talk about and we have friends who are hurting that could use us right now.” He failed to point out that they were _all_ hurting, that they _all_ needed somebody right now. Tweek nodded frantically at Token’s words.

“Yes!” he agreed. “I want to talk to Craig alone. I’m o-okay, I’ll be okay. Kenny and the others, they need you right now.” 

Clyde sighed heavily, his eyes searching Tweek for any sign of a lie. Finally, he nodded. “Phone me if you need me and I’ll be right back, okay?” Tweek nodded.

Clyde refused to leave until Craig was safely behind the glass. When he was sure that Tweek was as safe as he was going to be, he allowed Token to pull him away, leaving Tweek and Craig alone with the air thick of unsaid words that begged to be spoken.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, posting again so soon because I want to thank Sirius16 for pointing out the flaws in the previous chapter and apologise if they bothered anyone else (they’re bothering me now they’ve been pointed out haha.) The boys made a lot of stupid decisions (and I suddenly brought in a room that would have been useful for the previous chapter where Kyle died.) In part, it was intentional for them to be making stupid decisions, after all, they are nineteen, they’re scared and being hunted by a monster and so aren’t thinking quite clearly. However, it was also a chapter I cranked out desperately during writers block and so there was little thought into it, so sorry if it bugged anyone too much. I’ve added a quick scene to this chapter to try and explain why they didn’t use the cage-room to lock away Cartman, but, other than vastly editing chapter 15, there’s not a lot I can do now. (That said, I don’t hate the chapter at all, I just can’t unsee the plot holes now haha) 
> 
> In other news. I’ve started posting that Bunny fic I mentioned a while ago if anyone is interested. It’s a short fic, only 10k words, but I’m reasonably happy with it I think... Updates are going out pretty quickly for it and each chapter has a doodle :)
> 
> Also, if you’re a Tyde fan, you should check out this fic from my favourite follower of this story, it’s looking like it’s going to be a great ride :D [https://www.quotev.com/story/10751624/Sudden-Desire-South-Park-ClydeXToken/1](url) Just returning the favour, dude :) 
> 
> Anyway, enough from me! On with the story..

Finally it was just the two of them and this time it was unlikely that they would be disturbed any time soon. Of course, there was the threat hanging heavily over them that Craig could turn into a monster at any given moment but Tweek tried to ignore that. It seemed needless to worry over something like that until it actually happened. Then again, this was Tweek and there was nothing Tweek did better than worry. Still, they were separated by reinforced glass; Tweek was as safe as he could be. 

“How’re you holding up?” Craig asked, his voice purposefully soft as if he were putting extra effort into it. 

Tweek hesitated. How was he holding up? Not good, admittedly. Although the memory of one was already fading, two of his friends had died that evening. It didn’t matter that Kenny had come back, he’d still had to suffer through the pain of dying, and it hadn’t exactly been a pleasant death from the blurred memory Tweek had of the photo Craig had been sent. The likelihood that two of his friends were immortal seemed slim, which meant, terribly, that Kyle was dead and gone and wouldn’t be coming back. Tweek wasn’t a stranger to pain but this kind was new and cut deep. He lived in South Park so _of course_ he’d known people to die before – metal shit happened in their small mountain town all the time and people ultimately died because of it – but never somebody close to him. But then, thinking about it, apparently that wasn’t true. Apparently Kenny had died before and Tweek had forgotten and oh God, that made him a terrible person, right? Forgetting that somebody had died was awful! 

“Tweek?” Tweek stopped ripping into his hair, his gaze falling on Craig, who was looking at him in worry. 

“GAHH! Christ, you asked a question didn’t you? Nngghh, I – AHH JESUS!!”

“Tweek, calm down,” Craig said calmly. The taller man came right up to the glass and placed his palm against it. Tweek hesitated, but moved over and placed his own, much smaller hand up against Craig’s. He wished he could feel the warmth but all he could feel was the cold glass that separated them. 

“Kyle’s dead, Craig,” Tweek whimpered, feeling the tears building up in his eyes. 

Craig lowered his gaze, letting his forehead rest against the glass. “I know,” he said quietly. 

“Why didn’t we lock Cartman in this – _nngh_ – room?” Tweek asked, glancing around their surroundings. It would have been the perfect place but Craig hadn’t even thought to mention it. 

“Honestly? The first change is terrifying. I was alone for mine, I didn’t want Cartman to be alone. I thought – ” Craig pulled back from the glass and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. His eyes were burning angrily, though Tweek could see it was directed at only himself. “- I honestly thought they’d be okay. There should have been enough time while he was shedding his skin for Kyle to escape. I guess he freaked out and I just – _damnit_!” Craig slammed his fist into the glass, making Tweek jump and shriek out, stumbling back a little. “I should have considered him freaking out. I shouldn’t have left them alone with Cartman!”

“Craig?” Tweek whimpered. Fist still pressed against the glass, Craig moved his forehead to rest against the coolness and took a deep breath. Only once he had calmed a little did he look up and meet Tweek’s gaze. 

“Why did you stay with me?” he asked quietly, eyeing the small blond. “You saw what happened to Kyle.”

“…” Tweek hesitated, feeling his body twitch involuntary. “I lost you once before,” he finally admitted in a small voice, looking anywhere but at Craig’s face. “I didn’t want to lose you again.”

“But by being here, I’m putting you in dan-”

“-I don’t care! You’re hurting, Craig. I don’t want you to hurt alone. It’s like what you – _nngh_ – said about Cartman but this time we’re prepared. We’ve learned from our mistakes.”

Craig smiled sadly, gritting his teeth against the pain as another convulsion claimed him.

Tweek waited until Craig’s breathing returned to normal before quietly asking, “What are we meant to do?” 

Meeting Tweek’s gaze again, Craig’s eyes were fiery and intense. “I’m going to kill the son-of-a-bitch.” That didn’t exactly sooth Tweek’s worries. Instead, it just filled his mind with thoughts of Craig fighting, of Craig getting hurt, of Craig _dying_. He screamed out again, slamming his head against the glass hard enough to see stars. 

“Tweek!” Craig sounded pained. “Please don’t do that.”

“It’s the only way to – _nngh_ – shut up my brain,” Tweek said. “It always has been.”

“That’s not true is it?” Craig asked quietly. His fingers against the glass scrunched slightly, as if he were trying to grasp the smaller mans fingers through the barrier separating them.

“You helped but then you went away.”

“I’m so sorry, Tweek.” 

Tweek’s body felt heavy, too heavy for his legs to support. He let them crumble, folding beneath him so that he landed ungracefully on the floor in front of the glass. He pressed his forehead against it, relishing the cool surface against his warm forehead. Craig followed suit, sitting cross legged so that they were as eye level as possible considering their height difference. 

“I understand why it happened,” Tweek said. “I get that it wasn’t your – _nngh_ – fault.”

“But it still hurts.”

“Yes.”

“Hurting you was always the last thing I ever wanted to do. I wanted to protect you from the first moment we became friends, even more so after we got together.”

“I could look after myself,” Tweek said to the glass. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Craig’s eyes. The tears were so close to flowing and he was sure seeing the pain in those beautiful blue orbs would break him completely. 

“I know you could,” Craig agreed. “You’re strong, Tweek, even if you forget it sometimes. But just because you don’t _need_ me to look after you, it doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ to do it.” Tweek looked up at that, his eyes shining. 

Although it had been nine years since they’d been together, to Tweek it suddenly felt like they’d never been apart. The glass between them was suddenly an unwanted barrier preventing him from what he really wanted; to fold himself up in Craig’s arms. How was it possible a short relationship from so long ago was still so powerful? How did they still have such a hold over each other? There were new feelings there now too, Tweek realised, ones he hadn’t experienced when he was ten. Hell, they were feelings he’d _never_ experienced before despite his nineteen years of life. Tweek wasn’t sure how to feel about them, especially given the circumstances. He was pretty sure that thinking about Craig in _that way_ when Cartman had just turned into a werewolf and killed Kyle was a bad thing, though. Jesus, he was such a terrible person! 

Tweek slammed his head into the glass again. 

“How can I help?” Craig asked. His words were a little strained and Tweek looked up to see he was gritting his teeth, his eyes full of pain and determination. He was still fighting his alpha. Craig was strong. He was still making Tweek a priority despite the pain he was suffering through. That knowledge made Tweek want to be better. He wanted to stop being selfish and focusing on himself. He wasn’t important right now. The others were. 

“You help just by being here,” Tweek told him truthfully. “But – _nngh_ – never mind me. How can I help _you_?” 

Craig gave a small smile. “You help just by being here,” he echoed back Tweek’s own words and then gasped out as a spasm of pain engulfed him. His hands curled into fists, his nails digging so tightly into his flesh that Tweek spotted beads of blood drop to the floor. 

“C-Craig,” he said, the worry gripping him tightly by his shoulders, digging in. He hated to see Craig like this, in so much pain. Tweek wanted to make it all better, he wished he knew how. The problem was, he wasn’t sure it was possible. Even if the one controlling Craig could be killed, Craig would still be a werewolf. He’d still change into a monster once a month, suffering through his body bending and breaking in unnatural ways. 

Craig took a moment to answer. His eyes closed and he swallowed a deep breath, his hands still curled into tight fists. “I’m okay,” he said finally, exhaling and reopening his eyes. 

“Do you think y-you’ll be able to keep fighting?” Tweek asked nervously. 

“It depends whether he gives up soon or not.” Craig spoke between clenched teeth. Tweek noticed the sweat on her forehead. He was fighting a losing battle. Tweek tried not to let his fear get the better of him. This wasn’t about him right now. This was about Craig, and Craig needed him to be strong. 

“Do you think he will?”

“No,” Craig answered honestly. “He’s stubborn and likes to get his own way. In a way, he reminds me of Cartman actually.”

“ _Gahh!_ A-And you dated him?!” 

Craig laughed humourlessly. “He set his sights on me and it’s a wolf eat wolf world out there. I faired better for being with him.”

“He’s not that much older than us, r-right?” Tweek asked. “Has he always been the pack leader?”

“No. His dad was the pack leader back when this all began. He was the one my dad made the deal with. He was also the one that turned me, in the end.”

“So he – _nngh_ – inherited the role?” 

“Not exactly. He killed his dad for it.”

“AHH! Jesus Christ!!”

“Yup,” Craig agreed solemnly. “Like I said, he likes to have his own way.”

“D-does that mean – _nngh!_ – Does that mean that if you killed him, you’d be pack leader.”

“That’s the way it works,” Craig said, nodding. He didn’t sound happy about it. Craig had never been the kind of person who wanted to be in charge. He just wanted to get by. He’d always just wanted a nice, normal life and that had been stolen from him. It was so unfair. Tweek hated it. He slammed his tiny fists into the glass, surprising Craig. 

“You can’t kill him,” Tweek said determinedly. 

“What?” Craig arched a dark eyebrow, his lips pursed. His own fists had uncurled and Tweek wasn’t sure whether the taller man was having a moment of relief from the pain or whether he was just so surprised by Tweek’s outburst that he’d forgotten all about it. 

“You don’t want that responsibility, right?” Tweek spoke feverishly. “And if you did it, what happens then? You’d have to be killed for it to be – _nngh_ – passed on, right? No!”

“But I don’t see what other choice there is.”

“I’ll kill him!” There wasn’t even an ounce of doubt in Tweek’s words. Craig looked at him in surprise for a moment before shaking his head, his jaw set.

“Tweek, no. I won’t allow it.”

“You don’t think I can?”

“I’m not saying that,” he said, although it seemed pretty obvious that he was thinking it. “But I don’t want you to have that on your hands. He may be a monster but he’s also a person. It’d be murder.”

“I don’t care,” Tweek said definitely. “I’d do it for you.” 

Craig smiled sadly. “I have no doubt,” he said, “but I don’t want you to. I said I’d protect you, remember? Letting you kill for me would be a huge fucking failure.”

“And why shouldn’t _I_ be allowed to protect _you_?”

“Because I don’t need protecting,” Craig said, just before another convulsion seized his body, making him hunch over, gasping out in pain. 

“Oh really?” Tweek asked, arching an eyebrow. “It looks to me a lot like you do.”

“-Tweek…”

“I don’t want to sit and do nothing, Craig. I’ve done enough of that. I want to fight back.” Tweek was barely twitching at all now, his determination set like steel. 

“Heh,” a cold laugh sounded. Tweek squealed out in shock, whipping round to try and spot its source. “So, I guess I got you all wrong. You’ve got fight in you, after all.” 

The man with the golden eyes stepped out of the gloom, a bone-chilling smirk across his handsome face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we’re finally getting kickass Tweek! I knew he was hiding in there somewhere behind all the anxiety and paranoia. Craig brings out the best in him, even after 9 years apart. (Also, I’m really regretting making Craig leave when he was 10/11. I wish I’d given them a little longer together cus then their lingering feelings would make more sense. They’re both the kind of people that cling onto things though, so I guess it’s okay. Either way, it’s far too late to change it now lol.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m struggling again guys. Jeez, I’m like a broken record haha.

“Kenny?” Kenny forced himself to look up as a pair of soft hands took his own. Butters blue eyes bore into his, brimming with concern and with hurt of their own that couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard the boy tried. There was that braveness again; Had Butters had it all along? “How’re you doing, buddy?” His voice cracked a little but he powered through, more concerned with Kenny’s well being than with his own. Why was he so good? What had the world done to deserve Butters Stotch? 

Kenny didn’t answer. He couldn’t find the words. Instead he just tugged on Butters hands, pulling the smaller blond closer and wrapping him into a tight, desperate hug. Over Butters shoulder he watched Stan, slumped against the wall with Clyde and Token sitting on either side of him. The noirette wasn’t crying but, then again, he wasn’t doing much of anything. He looked broken which, Kenny supposed, he was. Stan had been in love with Kyle and had had to watch him be ripped to shreds from the other side of a locked door. Kenny had just seen the aftermath and that had been bad enough, he couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to watch it happen and be able to do nothing to prevent it.

Stan’s phone, on the floor in front of him, started buzzing. It wasn’t the first time it had rang since Kyle had died but, each time, it was ignored. This time was no different. It would have to be Kyle himself calling from beyond the grave before the noise would wake Stan from his stupor. 

A sniffling in his ear brought Kenny’s gaze away from Stan and he realised that Butters was crying. Large tears clung to his lashes, falling down his cheeks where they landed on Kenny’s orange parka. Kenny didn’t like to see Butters cry; he clung to the smaller man tightly, stroking his hair and feeling his own tears threaten to fall again. 

Kyle was dead. How was this possible? His friends weren’t ever meant to die. Kenny was the one who died. He died again and again and nobody ever remembered. Kenny would gladly endure his curse for the rest of his life if it meant Kyle could come back. But, of course… 

How was it that this was just one, long night? One long night that seemed to be stretching out for an eternity and, with each new minute that ticked by, everything just went more to shit. First Ned had died, then Kenny _himself_ had died (Jesus, had that really only been a few hours ago?) and now… Kenny didn’t want to think about it anymore. He was done. He didn’t know how they were meant to get past this, how they were meant to continue their lives after this one, hellish night? Everything was just so screwed up. Nothing would ever be the same again. Kenny wished, more than anything, that there was a way he could fix everything. But, other than going to Hell and dragging Kyle’s ass back… 

Kenny pulled away from Butters abruptly.

“Kenny?” the smaller blond asked in confusion, rubbing at his eyes to clear away the tears. 

“I can fix this,” Kenny said, realisation slapping him in the face like the girls he didn’t call after a one night stand. “I can fix _all_ of this.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before! The son-of-a-bitch owes me this much – ”

Butters grabbed his shoulders, drawing Kenny away from his frantic rambles and back down to Earth. For a moment Kenny lost himself in the blueness of Butters eyes. They were so large, an ocean that one could easily drown in, and they were staring at him unblinking as the blond tried to riddle out what the hell Kenny was rambling on about. 

“I think you’re in shock or something, Ken. Gosh, I think we’re all in shock.”

“No, I’m fine, Butters. It’s all fine. I can fix this.”

Butters shook his head sadly. “Gee, I wish that were true, Kenny, but, well… You can’t change what’s happened, okay? You need to just accept it. Kyle’s g-gone, okay?” There were tears in Butters eyes again, they broke Kenny’s heart. He leaned forward to kiss them away. 

“I can try, at least,” Kenny said. “Let me try.” 

“I don’t understand what you want to try,” Butters confessed. By now Kenny had caught the attention of the others in the room with them. Clyde and Token had come over, frowning. While Stan hadn’t moved, the clouds in his eyes had cleared somewhat, suggesting that he was at least listening to Kenny’s frantic rambles. 

“You just have to trust me, okay?” Kenny said, standing up. If he was going to do this, he couldn’t do it in front of his friends. Regardless of whether they remembered or not, he couldn’t put them through more heartbreak right now. 

“Of course I trust you, but – ” Kenny silenced Butters with a kiss, not caring that they hadn’t actually announced their relationship to their friends yet. He was pretty sure they all suspected something was happening between them anyway. 

“It’ll all be okay,” Kenny said feverishly as he pulled away from the stunned blond. “I’m going to make this all okay.” Striding over to Stan, Kenny placed a hand in his hair and ruffled it gently. “I promise,” was all he said before he left the room. 

“What the hell?” Clyde asked.

“I actually think he might have lost it…” Token said, chewing his lip in worry. “Hey- Butters?” But Butters was already tearing out of the room, chasing after Kenny. 

Butters found Kenny in one of the ravaged labs, noisily rooting through drawers. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” the shorter of the two blonds demanded. Kenny sprung around quickly, his blue eyes sheepish. “Don’t you think that telling Stan you’re going to fix everything is a bit of a stupid move?”

“But – ”

“-Kyle’s dead, Kenny,” Butters interrupted. Kenny hadn’t ever seen the look that was in his eyes before. Butters was a nice person, too nice generally. He rarely got angry and he certainly never got furious. Yet, here he stood, glaring at Kenny with such ferocity that he was surprised it didn’t kill him dead. 

“I know that,” Kenny said sheepishly. He was struggling to keep eye contact with the other man. “But what if I could…” he trailed off. Butters didn’t know his secret and trying to explain it now, after everything they had just endured, would make the gentle blond think he’d lost it completely. Goddamnit, why did Butters have to follow him? If he’d just of stayed put, Kenny could be halfway to Hell by now. 

There was no guarantee that Kyle was even _in_ Hell, of course. It had been quite a few years since the rules had changed, allowing more than just Mormons in past the pearly gates. Kenny, himself, had been to Heaven a few times, though he was more a frequenter of Hell. Kenny had to admit, he preferred the fiery pits. It was way more lively down there, and Satan was a pretty cool dude. There had even been a point, once, when Kenny had died more often than he needed too just because he liked ‘spending time’ with Damien. That was all over now, of course, but the father-son-duo still owed him a favour. He’d helped them out more times than he cared to remember, after all. Even if Kyle was in Heaven, which, knowing the Jewish man, was more likely, Kenny figured they’d still be able to help. 

“What if you could, what, Kenny?” Butters gaze hadn’t softened. His red-rimmed eyes glared into Kenny’s very soul. 

Kenny sighed. “Nothing,” he lied, dropping the intricate-looking death-trap of equipment he had been holding and walking over to throw an arm around Butters shoulder. “Please don’t be mad at me,” he begged. This day was bad enough without Butters hating him. 

Butters sunk into his side, resting his head against Kenny’s chest. “I’m not mad at you, fella. Just a little sore. I know Kyle’s been one of your best friends since you were in kindergarten but you can’t just go saying stuff like that to Stan, you know? It’s not fair on him.”

Kenny kissed Butters forehead. “I know. You’re right. I just… I freaked out. I didn’t handle it well. I… I’m just hurting.” Well, it wasn’t a lie. Kyle’s death was tearing him apart. 

“We’re all hurting, Kenny,” Butters said, threading his thin fingers through Kenny’s larger digits and squeezing. “Come on, we should get back to the others.” 

Kenny hesitated. He was torn. Torn between being what Butters needed him to be, and being true to himself. He wanted to be a good boyfriend – if that’s even what he was. They’d never said it out loud before – but if he didn’t at least _try_ and save Kyle then how was he meant to live with himself? He couldn’t bear the thought of having to carry on with each day if he didn’t at least try. Yes, he understood that dead probably meant dead and no amount of favours would help him out but what would it harm to at least _try_? 

“Actually, Butterscotch. I think I need a little time alone,” the lie slipped from his lips easily. “I don’t think I’d be great around Stan right now and I certainly don’t want Clyde or Token trying to make me feel better.”

“Well, gosh… I suppose I understand. But wouldn’t you feel better if I stayed with you?” Damn it, Kenny had a hard time saying no to those eyes! Other than Tweek, Butters was the only person who could do this to him. He hated it. “Babe, you always make everything so much brighter.” He smiled sadly. “But I really think I just need a bit of time to process, you know? Screw my heard on straight so that I can be the friend Stan needs me to be.”

Butters smiled and nodded, as trusting as always. The thought that Kenny was about to kill himself didn’t seem to even flicker across the smaller man’s mind. 

“You’ll be okay?” 

Kenny squeezed his fingers and leant down to brush a soft kiss against Butters lips. “I’ll be okay.” 

Once Butters left, Kenny returned to his weapon of choice for killing himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done himself in. Although many of the times he kicked the bucket were either accidents or plain old murder, he had a nice little tally going for self inflicted deaths. He didn’t even find it difficult anymore. What was the point in fearing death when you just woke up in your bed, right as rain? 

He lifted the nail-gun-like-contraption to his temple, his finger stretching on the trigger, when he was met with a familiar scream. 

The weapon slipped from his fingers, landing with a loud clatter at his feet. Kenny would kill himself later but first, _first_ he had to find out what in fresh hell Craig was doing to _his_ Tweek.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Member when updates were daily/ever other day? :P 
> 
> In my defence, I was gonna upload this chapter at the weekend but migraines were killing me, man. 
> 
> Oh, and this is now the longest fanfiction I’ve ever written, so there’s that :D Thanks to everyone who’s stuck around. We’re still going strong and things actually start getting good again soon (by that, I mean I start to enjoy writing again so hopefully that comes across haha)

“Tweek!” Craig slammed on the glass but it didn’t matter that the building hadn’t been maintained in four years; reinforced glass was still reinforced glass. Craig wasn’t getting out of his little prison unless someone on the outside _let_ him out. And that was about as likely as Kenny abstaining from sex. 

As his fist slammed futilely against the glass, another painful convulsion claimed him, causing him to double over, wheezing heavily. With a painful jolt, Craig realised that his asshole of a pack leader was still trying to force him to change. It didn’t matter that he was locked away and couldn’t hurt anyone. Or, perhaps, he was planning to make swift work of Tweek and then let Craig loose to finish off the others. Craig grit his teeth against the pain, feeling the sweat pour down him. He _could_ fight this. He was strong.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly last time we met,” the golden eyed man was saying pleasantly to Tweek, as if they were casual acquaintances meeting in a café. 

“ _Gahh_.” Tweek gave a violent shudder. “I think you were too busy bashing in my head.”

He laughed. “You’ve got spirit. I like that. Name’s Cole.”

“I don’t give a – _nngh_ – fuck what your name is.”

“Now that’s not very polite, is it? Hey, Craig, you should teach your boyfriend some manners. Or, maybe I should?”

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Craig growled, frantically recommencing his fruitless attempts to break out of his cell. 

“But he’s such a pretty thing,” Cole said, taking a purposeful step closer to Tweek, who stood his ground, twitching, but not flinching, as the taller, bulkier man approached him. 

“Tweek, get out of here!” Craig yelled through his prison. His fists were leaving bloody smears on the glass from his frantic pummelling. Tweek sent him a defiant look and Craig felt his heart sink. Why did the coffee addict have to be so damn stubborn? Craig wanted to scream that he couldn’t win, that he would only end up dead, but that sort of thing was bound to get under Tweek’s skin, putting doubt into him that would _definitely_ result in him dying. As children playing role play games, Tweek had always fought harder when Craig believed in him. In fact, when Craig believed in him, Tweek could be a mother-fucking savage. 

Craig stopped pummelling the glass and braced himself, taking a deep breath. “I believe in you.”

Tweek needed no further encouragement. With a roar, he ran at the the golden eyed stranger, launching himself at the taller man in such a surprising and bold attack that Cole, who had not seen it coming, stumbled as Tweek’s weight landed on his back. As Tweek’s arms wound around his neck, the werewolf reached behind him, grabbing at air like a claw machine until he finally felt the fluff of wild hair. When Tweek screamed out it was more from fear of being touched than from the pain of a hand closing around his blond locks and tugging. He was used to that feeling thanks to the hours a day he, himself, tugged at the locks of hair. Still, he gritted his teeth and didn’t relinquish his hold. 

Audaciously though his actions were, Tweek didn’t really have a plan of action for what he was meant to do after he straddled the larger mans’ back. It was just a sort of ‘wing it’ situation, he figured. His arms were thin and bony, with little strength to them, but he tried desperately to cut off the larger mans windpipe regardless. After all, Craig believed in him. He didn’t want to let Craig down. 

The hand groping him gave up on tugging at hair and instead tried to reach for the material of his shirt. 

“You’re an annoying little thing, aren’t you?” Cole said, finally grabbing a fistful of green cotton. He hunched slightly and tugged, ripping Tweek from his back and over his shoulder, slamming him into the cold, hard floor where the breath was ripped from Tweek’s lungs. “Oh, calm down,” he snapped over at Craig who had resumed his pounding on the glass, screaming Tweek’s name. “You’ll thank me for this eventually, Craig.”

Pinned down by muscle strength he had no chance of fighting, Tweek instead clawed at his attackers face, surprising himself as he drew blood. His triumph was short lived, however, as he was slammed back down into the floor again with an annoyed grunt. His already wounded body screamed in protest and Tweek coughed meekly, tasting blood on his lips. 

Unable to fight, Tweek just stared at his attacker with his impossibly large eyes as his body was raised slightly from the ground once more. If Cole had been any kind of human being (and by this, it didn’t matter that he was a werewolf, it had more to do with being a psychopath.) Tweek’s wide eyes that seemed to stare into his soul might have been enough to make him falter. Instead he just smirked, ignoring Craig’s desperate pleas, ready to smash Tweek’s brain against the floor. Tweek finally closed his eyes, as if it could prevent him from feeling the blow that was about to come –

-The blow never did come, though. Just as the golden eyed man was about to slam Tweek’s head into the ground, the door flew open and Kenny McCormick burst in. 

There was a moment of silence and then, “Didn’t I kill you already?” Cole asked, frowning. 

“You didn’t do a very good job.” Kenny shrugged. “Might want to work on it for next time, y’know? Make sure the person’s definitely dead. Maybe I can show you how it’s done?” 

“You definitely _were_ dead,” Cole growled. “No worries, I’ll just have to kill you again, won’t I?” 

There was a bit of debris, the size of a fist, to Tweek’s left. He hadn’t noticed it before but, faced with this new distraction, it caught his eye. He reached for it, knocking it with his trembling fingers but not grasping it. He tried again, straining with all his might while Kenny had the werewolf distracted. He managed to grab it just as Kenny started to approach them, a murderous glint in his eyes that Tweek had never before seen. Before the blond could rip Cole from him, Tweek slammed the debris into the werewolf’s head with all the force he could muster. 

“Goddamnit,” the werewolf growled as a trickle of blood slid down his face, but, before he could respond, Kenny was ripping him away. The impish blond didn’t look so impish as he pounded away at the other man, getting in as many blows as he could before golden-eyes could move to defend himself.

“Tweek, let me out of here!” Craig called through the speaker. 

“ _WAH!_ But you’ll turn and then you’ll eat me and, OH, JESUS! – ”

“He’s a bit too distracted to try and force me to turn right now. I haven’t felt anything since you leapt at him. I can help-”

“-Don’t let him out,” Kenny growled, throwing another punch and frowning as the wolf caught it.

“I vote you _do_ let him out,” Cole said, smirking with a bloody mouth as he squeezed at Kenny’s closed fist, making the blond cry out. The crunch of broken bones set Tweek’s teeth on edge. “Remember this move?”

Still brandishing his chunk of debris, Tweek roared and ran at the golden eyed man, landing another blow to the head before the man quickly flipped himself, using his knee to keep Kenny pinned down, and caught Tweek’s arm as he went in for another strike. With a well positioned thumb, Cole easily snapped the bone in Tweek’s arm, causing the twitchy blond to cry out. When the werewolf pushed him away, Tweek curled up in on himself, the fight drained from him thanks to the pain.

“Good, stay down. I’ll get to you soon,” Cole said coldly, shifting his attention from Tweek and back to Kenny. “Now, where was I?” Kenny spat in his face. With a _tsk_ , the man wiped the bloody saliva away. “Ah, yes. I was killing you again.” 

He grabbed Kenny’s neck and twisted, easily snapping it. 

“You fucking monster!” Craig slammed half heartedly on the glass, helpless tears spilling from his eyes as he realised Tweek was next and, unlike the other blond, Tweek couldn’t return to the living once killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try update again tomorrow for y’all. Wanna get back into the swing of regular updates if possible :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here’s another chapter! I think, from now on, I want to try and stick to an every other day schedule but we shall see how it goes...

The fiery pits of Hell hadn’t bothered Kenny McCormick in a long, long time. The eternal pits of damnation were simply a second home to him by now. Somewhere he could come to kick back and get away from the stress of his life back up top. He had to admit, it was always so fucking hot, though, what with all the lava and fire and shit. He shrugged off his tattered parka as he walked. That thing really needed to be tossed away but he couldn’t bring himself to lose it quite yet. Kenny clung on to things; sometimes a little _too_ much. 

People smiled and waved at him as they went about their business. Hell really wasn’t as bad as the church liked to make it out to be. It was really just a community. Yeah, there were a lot of bad people here, but they weren’t _all_ bad. As if proving his point, Kenny spotted a familiar figure playing chess with a beautiful woman next to a pool of lava. 

“Hey Chef,” he said, stepping closer to his elementary school chef and waving lightly in greeting. 

“Hello there, children,” the man greeted happily. Even in Hell, he still wore his trademark chef hat. It looked a little bizarre considering the rest of his outfit consisted of a Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sunglasses. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been about.” Kenny shrugged. “Do you know where the big man is?”

Chef took a moment to respond, contemplating his next move on the chess board. Kenny tapped his foot impatiently, he didn’t have time for idle chit chat today. Tweek was in danger. 

“I heard about Kyle, children.” The larger man sucked in his cheeks and slowly looked at Kenny who felt his heart leap. Just like that, he had suddenly forgotten all about his unanswered question. 

“Is he here? Where is he?”

“Whoa, hold up there. Kyle’s not here, he’s up there.” Chef nodded skywards and Kenny sighed. He’d thought as much. Kyle was too much of a goody-two-shoes to be anywhere but. “He’ll be fine, children. Kyle’s strong, he can handle anything. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Me?” Kenny glanced between Chef and the beautiful woman he was playing chess with. He wasn’t sure he wanted to have the conversation with her listening in, however easy on the eyes she was dressed solely in a bikini as she chewed on her thumb and smiled at Kenny. The blond shook his head frantically. He was allowing himself to get distracted. _He didn’t. Have. Time._

“Yes, you, Kenny. Just because you can’t stay dead it doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt, okay?”

“I know that, Chef,” Kenny growled, annoyed. “I was just murdered. It fucking hurt.”

“Murdered?” Chef’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my, children! I assumed you killed yourself to come after Kyle.” Kenny didn’t bother to tell Chef that that had been the original plan. 

“Look, have you seen Satan or not?”

“He’s this way,” a posh, British voice said from behind Kenny. The blond spun around to see Pip Pirrip. The annoying guy had been an old classmate of Kenny’s who had died at only nine. He had aged since then, into a rather good looking teenager. Strictly speaking, one wasn’t meant to age anymore after death, but Damien, the son of Satan, had chosen Pip to be his lover after Kenny had broken things off with him and, seeing as Damien _did_ age (however slowly) it hadn’t seemed appropriate for him to be sleeping with someone trapped in the body of a nine-year-old. 

“Hi Pip,” Kenny grumbled, pushing his hands into his pockets as he turned away from Chef to follow the other blond. 

“How do you do, Kenneth?”

“Not great,” he grumbled. “I need to get out of here.” Usually he was here for at least a few hours, sometimes longer. He didn’t have time for that shit today. He needed Satan to let him out faster. He needed to get out _now._ Pip didn’t ask any questions, he simply led Kenny through the labyrinth of tall pillars and irregular spurts of skin-melting fire to where he really wanted to be. 

Damien Thorn was slouched on a pink sofa, looking bored as Satan paced in front of him, muttering to himself. Pip took his place on the floor, between Damien’s legs. The noirette immediately threaded his fingers into the blonds hair, remind Kenny with a sunken feeling of Tweek and Craig and what they could have been. 

“Kenny.” Satan stopped pacing and turned to face the lanky blond. 

“Satan,” Kenny replied cooly, crossing his arms and trying to keep his gaze unwavering. 

“Shit,” Satan ran a hand between his horns, over the curve of his red head. “I know you want some favours but I can only grant one.” Kenny’s heart sunk. Not only did Satan know why he was here, he had also just shattered any hope Kenny might have had that he could save both of his friends. “Look, I know that’s not what you want to hear but, fuck, I shouldn’t really be giving you any favours as it is. Shit, I know you’ve helped me out a lot and all but I could get in real trouble for this.”

“You’re Satan,” Kenny pointed out. Who did the Devil have to answer to? 

“Um, shit. It’s not always as easy as all that, okay, kid? It’s like, um, shit. I have rules to follow, okay? So as much as I’d like to help you out…”

“Wait,” Kenny interrupted angrily. “Are you saying you won’t grant either?!”

“What? Oh,” Satan ran a hand over his skull again. “No, no, I guess I owe you one favour. Just the one though, right.” Satan seemed a little nervous. Kenny wondered why granting him a favour was such an issue. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. As if reading his thoughts (could Satan do that? It wouldn’t surprise him) the devil continued, “It’s just, God’s been right up my ass recently about rules. He, um, think’s I break them too much to suit my own fucking needs. It’s bullshit really, but what’s a devil to do, right? It’s not like I’m allowed to be happy and in love, right? _Fuck._ ” 

“Dude, if you have relationship issues with whatever guy you’re currently fucking I can come back down later and chat about them, alright?” Kenny said impatiently. “Right now I need to get back up top, though. Tweek’s in danger.”

“You know that spaz doesn’t like you, right?” Damien said, not pausing his stroking of Pip’s hair. 

“He likes me plenty,” Kenny snapped back, though he knew full well what Damien had meant. Judging from the son-of-the-devils smirk, he knew it, too. 

“So, that’s what you want?” Satan asked. “To rescue Tweek?”

“I can’t let him die.”

“He might save himself, you know?”

“Do you think he will?” Kenny arched an eyebrow. 

“The kid surprises me,” Satan said with a shrug.

“Let’s say I did pick Kyle,” Kenny couldn’t help but say, “what then? Could you do it?”

“I’d have to call a meeting with God,” Satan said. “Fuck, I don’t really want to deal with his bullshit right now…”

“How long would that take?” 

“I dunno, _fuck_ … A day… two, tops.”

“A day, maybe two!?” Kenny shook his head. He wanted to bring Kyle back more than anything. _Almost_ anything. However, in the time it took to _potentially_ save his Jewish friend, Tweek could die and, goddamnit, Kenny wouldn’t allow that to happen! Even if Tweek would never be his –

“You’d stand more of a chance with the spaz if you let him die,” Damien slurred, smirking evilly. Kenny couldn’t help his eyes grow wide as he turned to give his full attention to his ex-lover. “Think about it. You’re a frequenter here. If he was here, and away from his precious _werewolf_ ,” Damien said the word as if it were dirty, “you’d get him all to yourself.” Kenny hated that he allowed the image to cross his mind, of him and Tweek, alone down in the fiery pits of Hell, where there was nobody to stop them –

Butters face popped into his mind then, looking so damn pure and smiling so damn kindly… Kenny shook his head.

“No!” He slammed his fist into the nearest pillar, sending a dusting of debris to the ground. “I can’t let Tweek die.”

“Your funeral.” Damien shrugged. Kenny just glared at him. “You’ve gone soft, McCormick.” Perhaps Kenny _had_ gone soft, but he’d rather be soft and care about people than hard and alone. Kenny didn’t say anything in acknowledgement of the taller man speaking and Damien laughed lightly and stood. “So, if you’ve decided, should we go?”

“We?” Kenny arched an eyebrow.

“Look’s like it’s all happening in South Park,” Damien said. “I don’t want to miss all the fun.” 

“This is _your_ fault,” Satan told Kenny, though he didn’t sound mad. “You rubbed off on the little shit.” 

“I’m the son of the Devil,” Damien shrugged, “it’s in my nature to be a little devious. Pip, stay here. I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, the dark haired man leant down and pressed his lips firmly against the British mans own, plump pair. Kenny tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for them to part. 

“Well, good luck, or whatever,” Satan grumbled when Damien finally pulled away from his lover and joined Kenny in front of his father. “Don’t make a fucking mess for me to clear up, okay?” Damien just laughed and grabbed Kenny’s hand. Before Kenny could pull away, he felt the world shift, and suddenly Hell was gone. 

Kenny blinked up at his bedroom ceiling. He was in bed, just as he always was he he returned. The only thing different than usual was the fact that Damien Thorn was in his room, peering at the old poster of the bikini clad girl on the tattered wall, his head tilted curiously. 

“So, I’m curious,” Damien said, slowly turning around from the poster, a devious glint in his eyes. “What do you prefer? Dicks or Pu-”

“-Oh, fuck off, Damien.” 

“What? It’s a valid question.”

“We don’t have time for your ‘valid questions’.”

Damien frowned, tilting his head in concentration, his eyes glazing over slightly. After a brief moment he seemed to come back to himself. “Actually, we do. Tweek Tweak is still alive.”

“He is?” Kenny felt relief wash over him like a waterfall, almost knocking him to the floor with the force of it. Tweek was still alive. Kenny wasn’t too late. Not yet, at least. He still had to get back to the genetics lab… “Wait. Damien, can you teleport?”

“Can I teleport?” Damien scoffed. “Am I the fucking son of Satan or what?” 

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” However, before Kenny could even finish speaking, they were suddenly standing in the lab, rather than his bedroom. Kenny almost felt disappointed; if he hadn’t of had his eyes open he wouldn’t have known they’d traveled at all. He didn’t even feel dizzy. It only took him a second to realise he probably shouldn’t worry about that when what he should be worrying about was Tweek. He took off at a run, trying desperately to remember how to get to the room he’d died in. Damien followed behind him silently and Kenny hoped that the son of Satan wouldn’t be a hindrance in what was about to go down. He was sure Damien would get a kick out of screwing with them, and Kenny could only hope that if he took sides, it wasn’t with the werewolf. Fortunately, the noirette had seemed disgusted when he’d mentioned werewolves earlier so hopefully Kenny would be in luck. 

By the time Kenny found the room, however, he realised that Damien had given him the slip. Whether that bode well or not, Kenny didn’t dwell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I used the scene with Satan explaining addiction to Stan from Freemium Isn’t Free as my reference for him as it’s been so long since I’ve watched any of the other episodes/film with him in them (unless you count playing Up There on repeat, which I also did haha) Hopefully he came out okay. I fucking love Satan. He’s a great character. 
> 
> Oh boy~ we haven’t seen the last of Hell :P


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow this crappy fic has gotten over 150 kudos now, so have a crappy doodle that took all of 5 mins in gratitude :P You know I love you guys.
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/139273360@N08/40694087104/in/dateposted-public/)

When Kenny McCormick’s neck snapped, Tweek fucking _lost_ it. Suddenly, the pain from his broken arm was little more than a throb compared to the pain in his heart at seeing his best friend murdered. 

A little voice inside his head told Tweek that this had happened before, that Kenny had died and come back on multiple occasions, but it was such a little voice and it could barely make itself heard over the screaming in his brain. 

With a roar, he ran at Cole, shoving into the taller man so that he tripped over Kenny’s body and tumbled down to the floor, Tweek still on top of him, ravaging his face with his nails. He moved like a man possessed, slicing and dicing flesh with nails he’d meant to trim the previous morning and had – thankfully – forgotten. No doubt his movements were not doing his arm any good, but Tweek could feel nothing right now. Nothing but rage. It clawed at his heart, squeezing it, driving him on. 

“You little shit,” Cole said bitterly, grabbing at Tweek’s wrists, stopping his assaults. With agility no one in the room expected, least of all the blond doing the moves, Tweek twisted his body, bringing up his knee to press it against the larger man’s throat, digging it in until the hold on his wrists released. As soon as they were returned to him, Tweek balled his hands into fists and started to pummel them against Cole’s face, landing hit after hit until the mans once handsome face was a bloody mess of swelling and bruising. His broken arm screamed out with each thump but Tweek was too angry to care. If anything, the pain helped to focus him. He wanted Cole to hurt more than he did, even if that meant rendering his arm useless forever. 

He punched and punched, his hits sloppy and landing all over. It didn’t matter; they still achieved the desired results, bruising and breaking flesh as if it were a peach. It didn’t take long for everything to catch up with him, though. Sweat pooled down his back. Finally, the pain of the snapped bone in his arm started screaming at him, loud enough that no amount of anger drowned it out. 

“Are you quite done?” Cole asked as Tweek seemed to tire, his frantic attacks slowing. With an easy push, he knocked Tweek from him and sat up, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Christ, you’re more animal than human. You’d make a good wolf.” He moved his jaw and it clicked loudly. Tweek just stared at him from where he’d landed on the floor, the fight drained from him with the loss of his energy. So that was probably it then, he supposed. At least he’d put up a good fight instead of going to his death crying like a bumbling baby. That was certainly something. 

“Cole,” Craig was speaking again, banging on the glass with his ruined hands to get the wolves attention. “Don’t hurt him. Please. I’ll come back with you. I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave Tweek alone.”

Tweek couldn’t help his startled gaze falling on Craig. Did the other man really care about him that much? Tweek was nothing special. He was certainly nothing worth ruining his life over. 

“Craig, no,” he protested meekly, his voice getting stronger as he continued, “I don’t want you to go back with him for my sake. I’d rather die.” Tweek realised he meant it, too. It wasn’t like he was living much of a life, anyway. He was a wreck of a human being. He hadn’t truly lived in years, he’d just been this empty shell that Kenny and Clyde had ferried around. He didn’t want to be that empty shell anymore. He’d rather be dead than go back to being that fucking zombie and, if Cole took Craig up on his offer, Tweek would surely revert back. He wasn’t strong. He wasn’t strong enough to be strong without Craig. 

“I could always take you both,” Cole hummed, wincing as his battered face formed a painful smile. “I quite like the little guys feistiness.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Craig said.

“Ah, but Craig, you’re locked in there and I’m out here. How are you going to stop me? All it would take is a little bite.” He clicked his teeth together playfully, winking at Tweek. “I bet he tastes delicious.” 

Craig banged on the glass again furiously. Tweek wasn’t sure why he was still doing it; he couldn’t break through, even with his super human strength. All the werewolf was succeeding in doing was turning his hands into bloody stumps. 

What would it be like to be a werewolf, Tweek wondered. From everything he’d learnt that night, it wasn’t a good thing. Craig said it hurt and Tweek had seen the pain Cartman had been in. As an animal, his brain wouldn’t be in charge, as proven by Cartman once more when he ripped Kyle to ribbons. It all looked pretty shitty. And yet… Tweek couldn’t help but wonder if it would bring him closer to Craig. If they shared this curse, would they be closer for it? 

No! That was a bad thought! Tweek screamed out, ripping at his hair in frustration. He felt a chuck rip from his scalp, coming free in his hand which only made him cry out further. It had been a long time since he’d tugged hard enough to actually rip free the blond locks. 

“Then again,” the golden-eyed man eyed him wearily, “he’s a bit crazy for my taste. Maybe I should just kill him after all.”

“I don’t think so.” The door was crashing open, hitting the wall and slamming shut once more. Kenny was back. Cole narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing. 

“What the fuck?” he growled, turning to where he’d last seen the parka wearing man’s body. It was gone. “How the fuck do you keep doing that?”

“Kenny?!” Cole was ignored in favour of Tweek, who was on his feet and rushing over to the other man. Kenny ruffled his hair, lips pursed in worry as he saw the state of the shorter blond. 

“Get out of here, Tweekers. I’ll handle it from here, though you look like you did a nice job on his face. Well done.” With that, Kenny turned back to the alpha. “You can’t kill me, so if I were you, I’d give up. Just fuck off now and I’ll let you live.”

Cole seemed to consider his words. “Tempting,” he said. “But, much more tempting is to just kill you another few hundred times.”

Before he could take so much as a few steps, however, the door opened again, this time casually, like the person opening it had all the time in the world. 

“And just who in the hell are you?” Cole was clearly getting frustrated. He hadn’t expected getting Craig back to be such a challenge. He hadn’t expected to have to deal with immortals and crazy blond’s with razor sharp nails. It was tiring. 

“Hell is about right,” the man replied easily, flashing a smile that sent chills down even Cole’s neck. 

“Where did you go?” Kenny demanded, glaring at the man who had interrupted them, the alpha werewolf momentarily forgotten in favour of the newest addition to their bizarre party. 

“GAH! Kenny? You know him, man?”

“So do you, Tweekers. Though, I guess it’s been a long while since you last met. This is Damien Thorn.”

“That name rings a bell,” Craig said from behind his glass prison. 

Cole crossed his arms, drumming his fingers against bare flesh as he waited for them to remember him. Well, nobody could call him inconsiderate. Besides, he was mildly intrigued by the newest addition to the room. There was something so sinister about him. Something that made Cole want to wait and judge the situation before acting.

“Dude turned me into a fucking duck-billed platypus in third grade,” Kenny said causally. 

“Wait? That kid? Holy shit, wasn’t he the son of Satan or something.”

“That’s right, wolf,” Damien said. Tweek screamed in response, tugging at his hair and mumbling something about _too much pressure._

“Holy crap, there’s a lot of weird shit going on in this town,” the golden eyed werewolf mumbled under his breath. _The son of Satan, huh?_ Louder, he said, “So, son of Satan… You plan on stopping me?”

“Hm? Oh, no, you’re fine. Go right ahead and do what you want.”

“Damien!”

“Did you really think I came here to protect your weird little friends, Kenny? I was just bored. This kind of entertainment is best witnessed in person.”

“Oh you asshole.” 

“You love it,” Damien said, waving his hand and conjuring a plush chair out of nowhere. He sat down. “Don’t mind me.”

Apparently unconcerned with their sudden audience member, Cole turned back to Kenny. “Now, where was I?”

“You know,” Damien said, earning a frustrated growl as the Alpha turned back to look at him. “There’s not much point in killing Kenny. He’ll just come back and each time he does, he’ll be more pissed off.”

“I only need him to stay dead long enough to do what needs to be done.”

“Killing the spaz, right? Why?”

“I thought you weren’t going to get in my way?” Cole asked between gritted teeth. 

Damien held up his hands, as if in surrender. “I’m not stopping you from doing anything. Go ahead. Kill the spaz. He’ll make a great addition to my army.” Tweek whimpered at the thought, cradling his broken arm closer to his body. ( _Ouch_ , suddenly he was seriously regretting ignoring the injured limb for as long as he had.) The son of Satan wanted to recruit him as a soldier? Jesus Christ, that was too much pressure!

Cole hesitated for a few lingering seconds before turning back to Kenny and Tweek. “Of course…” Damien continued. Kenny almost laughed out loud. For somebody who had said he had no intention of interfering, Damien was sure doing a lot of it. 

“Do I need to kill you, first?” the werewolf growled, spinning back round with fire in his eyes. Damien didn’t even flinch. 

“By all means. Here.” The son of Satan extended a hand and, in the time it took to blink, an intricate dagger appeared in his flattened out palm. He smiled pleasantly at the furious werewolf. “Kill me,” he challenged, as if Cole actually stood a chance. Annoyed as he was, however, the werewolf seemed to have enough sense in him to realise that trying to kill the son of the devil probably wasn’t the best idea, invitation or no. 

“I have had it with you people!” he snapped. “You’re not worth his,” he all but spat at Craig. He headed towards the door and Kenny’s fingers curled into fists. He couldn’t just let the douchebag go. He’d hurt Tweek. 

Damien smiled, as if reading his thoughts. “Let him go. You’ve got bigger problems.”

Before Kenny could ask what Damien meant, the door that the alpha had just left through like a pissed off teenage girl was once again being swung nearly from its hinges. This time the aggressors were Clyde and Token, matching looks of panic across their faces. 

“Cartman’s gone!” Clyde breathed out.

Gritting his teeth, Kenny turned to look back at Damien but the son of Satan was gone, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve not seen the last of Cole. He may have stormed out like a stroppy teenager but that was more about survival than giving up. He’s not an idiot. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance against Damien if Damien so wished to fight him. 
> 
> I’m not overly happy with how this chapter turned out but it’s rare that I am nowadays. I write better when I can leave things to sit for a few weeks and look it over again with fresh eyes. I hope it’s not too bad though, I really want to write a good story for you guys but I feel like this one keeps spiralling between ‘ok’ and ‘crap’ and that’s what you get for launching into a story without a plan haha.
> 
> I finished the last of my Easter chocolate as I wrote this. God, I feel disgusting haha


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first things first, can we all just take a minute to appreciate this INCREDIBLE pic of Damien drawn by the incredibly talented Alientraplord13. I just couldn’t be happier that this lil’ fic has inspired something so amazing <3 
> 
> (Does the link work? It’s not doing anything for me... :/ Just in case: https://xxawkward-monsterxx.tumblr.com/post/172891891446/happy-friday-13th-everyone-i-didnt-plan-on )
> 
> Now, on with the show...

“That Son-of-a-” Kenny yelled, picking up and tossing the chair left behind by Damien, the loud clash that followed drowning out the end of his sentence. He’d known the son of Satan was up to no good, he should have questioned further when Damien had briefly vanished. Obviously, in the time he had been missing, the devious bastard had done something with the wolf that was Eric Cartman. It was all way too obvious; Kenny couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised it at the time. 

“Dude, what?” Clyde asked, frowning. 

“Damien’s always been fucking interested in Cartman. The guy’s, like, perfect General of Darkness material…”

“Okay, and who is Damien?” Token asked, cocking an eyebrow, His face had already smoothed out into a calm, collect expression. Token was never fazed for long. 

Kenny didn’t answer. The parka wearing man had simply returned to his assault on the plush chair. 

“Damien is the – _nngh!_ – son of Satan,” Tweek said, as if this wasn’t weird (this _was_ South Park, after all.). Still cradling his injured arm, he made his way over to Craig and peered up at the raven haired man through the glass, trying not to wince as he saw his bloody, ruined hands. “Has his influence stopped?”

“Yeah,” Craig said in his usual monotone. All the frustration and fear that had previously been written across his face had melted away. Craig had never been much for showing his feelings. He was the sort of person who swallowed them down and let them eat silently away at him until he cracked. It wasn’t particularly healthy and it was a stark contrast to Tweek, who had so many emotions they spilled over constantly, usually resulting in something akin to a bottle of soda that had been frantically shaken. 

“I’m going to let you out then, okay?”

“What?” Clyde snapped. “Hell no, you’re not!” 

Craig glanced at his watch. It had just gone four AM. “I don’t think I could change now even if I wanted to. Too close to sunrise.” Clyde didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say anything more as Tweek moved to release the door, letting his former boyfriend free. 

As soon as Craig was out, he engulfed Tweek in a bone crushing hug, speaking in the smaller mans ear so only he could hear. “I was so worried.”

Tweek stifled a cry at the contact. Being held by Craig did stuff to his heart he didn’t know it was capable of, but, ultimately, nice as the contact was, the pressure against his broken limb finally became too much to bear and he let out a pained yelp. 

“ _Crap,_ sorry,” Craig said, pulling away as if the smaller man had burned him. Tweek instantly missed his proximity. 

Having apparently finally finished assaulting the plush chair, Kenny shot daggers at Craig and rushed over to the pair, gently taking Tweek’s arm to examine it. 

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Kenny said. Tweek started to protest but Kenny shook his head. “It needs to be set, Tweekers. I know you hate it, but I can’t let you get your way this time.” 

“GAH!”

“He’s right, Tweek,” Craig said, albeit reluctantly. Tweek screamed again as the rivals glared at one another. Now that Tweek was aware of Kenny’s feelings, he couldn’t unsee the tension between the pair. _Oh God,_ they were going to get into a fight and kill each other all because of him and then he’d be alone and miserable and it would be all his fault and it was way too much pressure!

“Hey! Um, where’s – _nngh_ – Butters?” At the mention of Butters, Kenny’s intense gaze dropped to one of worry and he glanced around his surroundings, as if hoping to spot the other blond. Tweek felt a wave of relief wash over him as his distraction worked, the preverbal fight halted before it could get anywhere. 

“He stayed with Stan,” Token said. “We still can’t get Stan to move or talk or anything.”

“Well, he did watch his boyfriend get ripped to shreds,” Craig said, only a hint of emotion slipping through the cracks. “Kenny you should stay with Butters and Stan. The rest of us can get Tweek sorted.”

Kenny opened his mouth to argue but Craig was right. Out of all the people in the room, he, alone, was closest to the pair left behind. 

“Okay.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll try get Stan home. He should be with his family right now.”

“That probably best,” Token agreed. “Do you need me to help?”

“No, that’s fine, dude. Look out for Tweek.” Kenny gave Craig another cold look. 

“Do we need to worry about Damien?” Craig asked, unfazed by the coldness leaking from his rival. 

“Of course,” Kenny said. “Do we need to worry about your Alpha?”

“Probably.” Craig shrugged. “He’s an ass.”

“Excellent.” Kenny ruffled Tweek’s hair, giving a smile that was reserved only for the coffee addict and then shoved his hands into his pockets. “See y’all later.” With that, Kenny left to go and find the two remaining members of their party. 

“GAH! Will he be alright?”

“He’s Kenny,” Craig said, as if that answered his question. To be fair, it kind of did. If anyone was going to be alright, it would be Kenny. 

“Come on, Tweekers,” Clyde said, glancing uncomfortably at Craig. “Let’s get you checked out. You look like shit, man.”

“Jesus Christ, I feel like shit! I need a coffee, man. And a shit-ton of pain killers.” Clyde laughed and led Tweek from the room. Token and Craig lingered back.

“It’s not over, is it?” Token asked, careful to keep his voice low. His dark eyes followed Clyde and Tweek, slightly narrowed as if he expected something to jump out at them.

“Of course not,” Craig said. “Cole’s probably gone to regroup. And, shit,” he slipped a bloody hand under his hat to toy with his hair, “the actual devil and son have Cartman. We’re fucked dude.”

“Thought so,” Token said glumly, and then followed after his other friends. 

 

As much as Tweek hated hospitals, he was a frequenter in Hells Pass Hospital and, as such, many of the passing nurses stopped to say hello or smiled as they hurried on their way. They all seemed concerned with the state of him but Tweek was too busy nursing his fourth cup of coffee to pay much mind. It tasted like slightly caffeinated dirt but, after the night he’d had, Tweek would have drank piss if it had a bit of caffeine in it. 

Token and Clyde sat, quietly talking to one another just out of ear shot. Craig sat as close to Tweek as he possibly could without touching him, glaring at anyone who dared to glance their way. They’d been in the waiting room for hours now, watching other people come and go until they were deemed high enough priority. 

Eventually, at eight in the morning, Tweek was called through. His friends all stood but the doctor shook his head. “I’ll let one of you through but _only_ one.”

Despite Clyde’s protests, Craig accompanied the smaller man and the doctor down the corridor. The doctor glanced at Craig’s hands and _‘tsked’_. “You should get them seen to as well, young man.”

“I’m fine,” Craig grunted. 

“Were you two fighting each other?” Tweek cried out, tugging at his hair with his good arm. He hadn’t considered how it looked; him all beaten up and Craig’s fists a bloody mess. He was surprised nobody had called the cops yet. 

“GAHH! NO!! Craigprotectedme!”

The doctor arched an eyebrow and hummed but didn’t argue. “Okay, you’ll have to wait outside while we X-ray Mr. Tweak,” he said to Craig as they reached their destination. “It shouldn’t take long.” 

It took another two hours before Tweek was discharged from the hospital with a cast, a bag of extra strength pain killers and a warning not to get in any more fights for a while lest he want brain damage. His mild concussion wasn’t serious to warrant monitoring but the doctor warned he might have a few headaches over the next couple of days. That, and a nasty bump. 

“Have either of you heard from Kenny?” Craig asked Token and Clyde as they left the hospital, blinking in the dull morning light and yawning tiredly. It had been a long night. 

“He got Stan home safely,” Token said. “Last I heard, he was going back home with Butters. Didn’t want to leave him alone.”

“What about Karen?” Tweek asked, giving a frantic twitch. “Kenny doesn’t – _nngh_ – usually like to leave her alone for so long.”

“I guess he decided his sister could look after herself better than his friends could right now,” Clyde said, shrugging. “Relax, dude. He probably phoned her to check in. Why’re you worrying about Karen anyway?”

“She’s important to Kenny,” Tweek said quietly. Behind him, Craig pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. He was pretty certain he didn’t need to be jealous of Kenny, but when Tweek considered the immortal man and his feelings like that, Craig was a little less sure. Not that he had any right to be jealous either way, of course… 

The four of them returned to Tweek’s house; his parents were still out of town for another day. Tweek didn’t know what he was meant to say to them about his black-and-blue appearance when they returned. Or about why he had, near enough, fired the new girl. Or how Tweek Bros was closed, come to think of it. He wasn’t sure they would notice his cuts and bruises in all honestly, but he knew for certain that they would notice how he’d fucked up their precious business. With parents like his, werewolves and friends dying wouldn’t cut it as an excuse for not opening for work. Nothing short of Tweek himself dying would excuse that and, even death, Tweek thought, would make them ‘um’ and ‘ah’. Their coffee shop was pretty important to them after all. Tweek definitely believed it was more important than him. 

As soon as they were safe inside and Tweek had triple checked the doors were locked, he set about brewing some coffee. Craig followed him into the kitchen, fishing out some mugs after a brief scavenge through cupboards. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said sadly.

“ _Gahh!_ Jesus Christ, stop apologising, Craig! I’m just glad you’re back, man.”

“If I hadn’t come back, Kyle might still be alive.”

“Or we might all be dead,” Tweek argued firmly, pouring hot coffee into each mug. He downed half of his own, still red-hot, and refilled it before carrying the others through to where Token and Clyde had made themselves comfortable. 

“So, what now?” Clyde asked, wearily accepting the coffee. Everyone knew that Tweak brew was laced with meth. It was part of the reason Tweek was such a twitchy, anxious mess. 

“I should go after Cole before he tries anything else.”

“Jesus Christ, NO!” Tweek pulled at his hair. “That’s too much pressure, man! We agreed you wouldn’t kill him!”

“We didn’t agree anything,” Craig argued. 

“Why wouldn’t he kill the bastard?” Clyde wanted to know. 

“Because then he – AHHH!” Tweek’s hand twitched so much that hot coffee spilled from his mug, splashing his battered hands, still covered in sores and burns from the last time he’d spilled coffee over them, not to mention the fresh cuts from pummelling Cole’s face. Placing down his mug, he wiped his hands dry and then continued speaking as if there hadn’t been a disruption. “Jesus Christ, then he’d be the alpha and that’s TOO MUCH PRESSURE!”

“Tweek, deep breaths,” Token said calmly. He turned his attention back to Craig. “Is that true?”

“Yup,” Craig said, popping the P. 

“Jesus. Remember when life was easy?”

“Life’s never been easy, dude. We live in South Park,” Clyde said. “Some shit happens ever other week.”

“At least it’s never boring,” Token said. “It’s why I chose to stay, after all.” Tweek had thought Token was crazy for wanting to stay in South Park to investigate the strange goings on. Now that he was still here, rather than somewhere far away like Jimmy, he was conflicted. On the one hand, Tweek was glad that Token was here right now, keeping a level head in this crazy situation but, on the other, he would be much safer elsewhere. They all would. 

It was a bit late for that now, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of a filler chapter but certain points will be brought up again, some more important than others. I can’t tell you what, obviously. Spoilers :P
> 
> (You wouldn’t believe how long I tried and failed to attach a River Song ‘spoiler’ gif here haha. Apparently it wasn’t to be.)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be my favourite chapter yet. Cartman is a despicable person but I kinda love him. I definitely enjoy/find him the easiest to write (I don’t know what that says about me... haha) There’s a lot more swearing than usual in this chapter but, I mean, you probably wouldn’t be a fan of SP if you were opposed to swearing so I probably shouldn’t worry..
> 
> In other news. If any of you are fans of K2, I posted part 1 of a twoshot yesterday. _You Deserve The World._ Feel free to check it out. I wasn’t sure if it was any good but it got like 15 kudos in 10 hours or so which is damn good for me so I guess it can’t be all that bad :)

Eric groaned. As the world came back to him, the first thing he noticed was that his mouth was dry like cotton wool and had a vile taste coating it: blood and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on a warm, dusty floor. Hesitantly opening his eyes, he saw that the dust was more of a fine dirt and that he was outside… sort of. 

There was an awful lot of fire and lava and, if the sweat pouring down his body was anything to go by, it wasn’t a hallucination. 

“Goddamnit,” he grunted, struggling to prop himself up. Just who the fuck had kidnapped him and taken him to a fucking volcano?! “Kahl, is this your fucking idea of a joke? Like hell am I letting you do some fucking Jew sacrificial cult shit on me.”

His whole body ached, as if he had endured quite the beating, which he supposed he had, considering he had no memory of Kyle drugging him and taking him to a fucking volcano. He glanced down at his arm, spying a blood soaked bandage wrapped around it. Oh, that asshole was gonna pay! “Kahl!” he barked. “Kahhhll!”

Kyle was nowhere in sight though, which was odd. The Jew would surely be squatting down in front of him with a maniacal shit-eating grin on his face right about now if he were responsible. “Keeney? This your idea of a joke?” 

His head was pounding. He brought a hand up to it, massaging his temple. Goddamnit, just what the fuck was going on? Where were his asshole friends so he could beat the crap out of them? As far as jokes went, this one was pretty shit. 

“Goddamnit, you guys…” He was on his feet now, wobbling with the world spinning around him as if he were on a Ferris wheel. He spat on the ground, trying to get rid of the horrible taste. When he took a step forward, he stumbled. “I’m seriously… This is so fucking _not_ funny, you guys…” His voice was weak, his throat raw and scratchy. When he found out what those assholes had given him, he was definitely going to shove it down their throats in revenge. See how _they_ liked it. 

“Stan?” He took another stumbling step forward, wiping sweat from his forehead. Goddamn it was hot down here. “Stan, is this fucking you?” There was no answer. “I’ve had it up to here with your bullshit, guys. Kahl, I know this is fucking you. This screams worthless Goddamn Jew all over. I know you’re pissed about me telling Stan we fucked, but seriously, man! Grow some fucking balls.” 

His senses were starting to come back to him, little by little. The world around him wasn’t spinning quite so much anymore but, while _it_ was slowing down, his stomach seemed to be doing no such thing. Realising he was about to hurl, Eric leaned heavily against the nearest jutting pillar, heaving painfully as acidic chunks forced their way out of his mouth, splattering his shoes. He didn’t know what he’d last eaten but he sure hoped it had been nicer going down than it was coming up. When he was finished, he wiped a hand across his mouth, flicking the small lumps that coated it to the ground. Man, he felt _rough._

“Guys?” he called out again, though he was starting to think his friends had ditched him and ran. He certainly wouldn’t put it past the bunch of assholes. If they hadn’t left him a goddamn car or something to get home again he was going to be _pissed._

Grumbling under his breath and feeling slightly better for throwing up, Eric continued walking, navigating his way through the fiery pits. He was sure he was inside the volcano that had erupted back when he was a kid and had been quiet ever since. He was less sure to _why_ but he figured his friends were dicks and that was reason enough. 

Still, his certainty wavered a little as he started to spot movement. There were others down here with him. 

Maybe this hadn’t been his friends after all? Maybe some cult had kidnapped him in hopes of him leading them? I mean, damnit, they could have just _asked._

“Hey!” he called to the nearest person making their way along. They spared him a wearily glance but didn’t stop. “Asshole.”

Eric kept walking, muttering furiously under his breath as he did. There would be hell to pay when he got back home; some asshole was _definitely_ gonna die. 

The first sign that made Eric pause and wonder if everything wasn’t quite as it seemed was when he walked past a man flailing on a sphered pillar. The thing was quite literally jutting through his chest, blood staining everything, guts protruding around the exit hole. The man stopped flailing to wave his hand in greeting as Eric passed, shamelessly staring. _Well, that was hella weird…_

The next thing to catch his interest was when a couple of imps passed, walking by on goat legs, small horns jutting out of their foreheads as they chatted away without giving Eric a seconds glance. 

What really tipped him over the edge, though, was when he spotted Chef, his old Elementary School Chef, lounging on a sun chair. 

“Goddamnit,” he enunciated. “Why the _fuck_ am I in Hell?”

Chef turned to look at him, lowering his sunglasses to peer at his face, recognition sparking in his dark eyes. 

“Well hello there, children! You’re not dead, too, are you Eric?” 

“‘Course I’m not fucking dead,” Eric growled, though he wasn’t certain if he were honest. He didn’t like that uncertainty. There was a beat. “ _Too_?” His brow furrowed. 

“Oh, children,” Chef said sadly. He shook his head and then smiled. “Maybe I could sing you a song? Clear everything up for you?” Before Eric could protest, Chef started singing about making love to a woman. The nostalgia kick almost made Eric forget that somebody else was dead. _Almost._

“Goddamnit, Chef!” he growled, just as Chef was getting to the chorus. The larger man paused, frowning. “Who the fuck is dead?!” And… if he was in Hell, was he, himself, dead? Why else would be be here, if not? 

“Ah, excuse me, Jerome. I’ll take it from here.” Eric turned to squint at the posh British twerp who interrupted them, a frown forming across his lips as he realised he recognised that face, despite it having aged since the last time he saw it. It took him a moment longer to place him. 

“ _Pip_?” 

“How do you do, Eric?” 

“Not fucking great, actually. Why am I in Hell goddamnit? And who the fuck is dead?!”

“If you’d just follow me, you can get some of your answers,” Pip said, smiling lightly and turning to walk away, just like a fucking secretary or some shit. Pip the Goddamn annoyingly British secretary of Hell. _Jesus Christ._ Or, more accurately, _damn it all to Hell._

Eric hesitated for a moment, looking between Pip and Chef. They were both people he hadn’t seen since he was a kid, people who were fucking _dead._ That probably meant he was dead, too, which was just fucking brilliant. With a sigh, Eric turned to follow Pip, half heartedly flipping the bird to Chef who said ‘goodbye children’ to his back. 

Now that he knew he was in Hell, Eric couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out sooner. The place just screamed ‘home of Satan’, what with all the lava pits and demons or whatever walking around.

“Why the fuck have you aged?” Eric grumbled to Pip’s back. The blond turned and smiled brilliantly. He still had his ridiculous hair and cap but beyond that, Eric was surprised he’d recognised him at all. He had grown up into a good looking man, with high cheekbones and a long, straight nose. If Eric was a fag, which he wasn’t (unless Kyle was involved. Bloody Jew.) he might have found him attractive. Well, no he wouldn’t, because Pip was still a real dweeb. Eric liked people with fire; people who fought back harder than he gave. People like Kyle. 

“Well, for a while I didn’t, old chap. I was nine for quite some years, actually. But then Damien chose me as his lover and it wasn’t very appropriate for me to still look like a nine-year-old, so they aged me up. I have to say, I’m rather pleased they did. It was somewhat dreadful being a seventeen-year-old trapped in the body of a child, if I do say.” As the man prattled on, Eric tuned him out, sorry he’d asked. He couldn’t help his mind drifting to theories on what had happened to bring him to Hell, and just who on earth Chef had been referring too when he said that somebody else was dead. There was a clenching fear in his stomach that Eric didn’t quite understand and therefor decided to pass off as wind. 

“Well, here we are,” Pip said brightly, stopping in a room with a pink couch and a devilishly handsome, dark and mysterious man lounging upon it. “I’ve brought you Eric, Damien.”

 _Damien._ Eric remembered him now. It was hard to forget the son of Satan, really. He’d been around South Park Elementary for a while, but Eric had never really interacted with him after the events of his ninth birthday with the noirette had exploded Pip and turned Kenny into some kind of bird or something. _Good times._

“Ah, Damien. Excellent. How are you? Maybe you can tell just what in fresh hell is going on?” Eric easily slipped into business mode. He really had a knack for it; it kind of made him wish he’d gone into business or politics or some shit like that. He would have, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was so damn boring. 

“What’s the rush?” Damien asked. Eric remembered him having a horribly high, squeaky voice. The smooth rumble he heard now, coated with amusement, couldn’t be further from his memories. “Sit down, take a load off.”

“I’d rather just get to the point,” Eric said, standing his ground. Son of Satan or not, the man didn’t scare him. He was Eric-fucking-Cartman, killer of parents, rallier of nazis, destroyer of worlds. He was friends with goddamn Cthulhu for fucks sake. Damien should be fucking scared of _him._ “Am I dead?” 

Damien’s shit-eating grin just pissed Eric off. “Do you feel dead?”

“No. Pretty sure if I were dead I wouldn’t feel so damn crappy.”

“Well, you’re right. You aren’t dead. No, I brought you here for… other reasons.” 

“Yeah?” Eric arched an eyebrow. “And what would they be?”

“You’re a leader, Eric Cartman. A damn good one at that. How would you like to be commander-in-chief to my army?” 

Fucking finally! Somebody was seeing his damn potential. It was about time. Eric smiled at the thought of being in charge of an army of Hell. It was tempting, that was for sure. It would certainly show that insufferable Jew, who reckoned he’d never amount to anything. _In your face, Kahl!_

“And what are the perks, should I say yes? I certainly don’t want to have to stay down here all the time. I mean, look at the décor.” He gesticulated around him at the stone and fire. It was pretty bleak to be honest. And what was with the ugly couch?

Damien cocked an eyebrow and even Eric had to admit he sounded pretty gay right now. Still, he liked his luxuries and there was nothing wrong with that. 

“We can accommodate your needs should you wish to return to the surface.”

“Should I wish? Why the fuck wouldn’t I want to?”

“What do you remember of the last, let’s say… twelve hours?” Damien looked like he was having too much fun, it was pissing Eric off. He didn’t like it when people had fun at his expense and he _certainly_ didn’t like that, now that he thought about it, he really couldn’t remember much of anything. 

Eric cast his mind back as far as he could. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered Kyle’s anger as they argued. God, that really turned him on, not that he’d admit that to the Jew. “I remember Kyle getting his panties in a twist over me telling Stan that we used to fuck.” 

“And after that?”

Eric frowned. He didn’t like that he was struggling to conjure up the memories. “After that… he stormed off and I went for a walk.” That was right. He’d been considering making a YouTube video but his heart hadn’t really been in it. The more he tried to focus on the memory, the more he came up blank. He knew _something_ had happened, something _bad_ , but he couldn’t remember what. 

“Let me fill in the blanks,” Damien said cheerfully. “You were attacked by a werewolf.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious. Have a look at that nasty wound under your bandage.” Despite himself, Eric peeled away the bandage, wincing in pain at the friction against tender skin. Damn, that was a nasty wound. Definitely a bite. Eric threw up a little in his mouth. The smell was disgusting and he’d never been very good with his own blood. Other peoples, he could handle no problem. His own, though… 

“Nasty,” Pip commented helpfully, peering over Eric’s shoulder. The blond didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. 

“Fuck off, dweeb.” 

A werewolf, huh? Weirder things had happened in South Park. And, if Damien was to be believed, he’s survived the attack so it wasn’t all that bad. It would make for a killer YouTube video, that was for sure. He’d just have to embellish the facts he didn’t remember (ie. all of them) and he was set to go. There was just one thing bothering him, though. He had lost hours and in them, apparently someone might have died. Nobody had told him a goddamn thing. 

“Did you know that the werewolf curse is transmitted through bites?” Damien asked pleasantly, like he was just telling Eric the weather. 

“Bullshit,” Eric said, tugging at his collar nervously. He didn’t like where this was heading. 

“Afraid not. You, my friend, are a bonafide werewolf.”

“Fuck off.”

“Why can’t you remember the last few hours? Think real hard.”

Eric couldn’t help but comply. He cast his mind back, straining to think of something, _anything_ that would prove the smug asshole in front of him wrong. He closed his eyes. 

There were flashes. Worried faces peering over him, swimming in and out of focus. Kyle’s face, in particular, stood out. It was etched with worry lines, lips pursed. He was saying something that Eric either hadn’t heard or couldn’t remember. His hand was being squeezed. 

That was all. There was nothing else to remember.

Fear crept from Eric’s stomach to his throat, like a dying rat trying to hide. He gulped it down but it was stuck there, making him feel queasy. His hands trembled. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t get why he was so worried. 

“Just tell me what the fuck happened,” he said between gritted teeth. 

“Why rush it? This is wonderful.”

Eric moved faster than he ever imagined he could. His first grabbed at Damien’s collar, lifting the other man with strength he hadn’t known he possessed. “Goddamn it,” he growled. “Tell. Me.”

Something bad had happened in his lost hours, Eric knew it. He wanted to know what but, at the same time, he didn’t want to ever hear it. Though he didn’t relinquish the tight grip on Damien (who seemed entirely unfazed by his situation. Perhaps even a little amused.) his hands still shook. The sweat on his forehead no longer had anything to do with the heat of Hell. 

“Very well,” Damien said. “As you asked so nicely. Care to release me first? Only, I fear you might drop me once you hear.” 

Begrudgingly, Eric released his hold. Damien straightened out his black jacket (seriously, he was dressed like a goddamn rock star) and sat back down. Like a faithful dog, Pip moved over to him, slipping between his legs on the floor, where Damien started playing with those ridiculous blond locks of his.

“Well, Eric Cartman, you transformed into a werewolf.”

Eric wanted to argue, to call his bluff, but something told him it was true. _Please don’t say it…_

“You woke with a rather horrible taste in your mouth, I’d imagine?”

_Please don’t goddamn say it…_

“How did he taste? Your friend, Kyle?”

Eric’s world imploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, poor Eric :(


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for making people feel sorry for Cartman in the last chapter. I’m an evil bastard :P You’ll hopefully all be back to hating him soon and all will be right in the world again :D

Stan wasn’t really aware of much of anything that happened after Cartman turned. He’d laid there, on the floor, for a long time he knew. At some point, someone had helped him move, propping him against a wall. He’d been aware of talking, of people coming and going, but he hadn’t really paid it much heed. The closest he’d been to being drawn from his stupor was when Kenny started raving about _fixing_ things. That had lasted all of a minute, though, and Stan had returned to his… _nothing._

The world kept on ticking by but Stan no longer felt as if he were a part of it. It was like he was on a different plane, aware that things were happening before him but not able to truly _see_ them. It was almost like there was a sheet of water between him and the world, distorting his senses and leaving him feeling washed out and cold. 

Every now and then there would be a buzzing on the floor in front of him. It vibrated through his body but Stan hardly noticed. 

For some reason, he recalled his tenth birthday. Back then, it was like he hit ten and _Bam!_ Suddenly everything was shit. Food, music, TV, even everything people said to him… it was all shit. This feeling now was not dissimilar. Instead of just hearing shit, though, it was like static or something. Like he was viewing the world through one of those old as fuck analog televisions which needed tuning and, if the aerial was even slightly wrong, the picture would be crappy. It was dull, too. No colour seeping through the edges. Unless you counted the red. 

There was red _everywhere._ It was like it had stained his eyeballs. He saw it when he closed his eyes and he saw it when they were open. It dripped in front of him, tormentingly slow and he couldn’t get away from it. He wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ get away from it. 

At some point, Stan blinked as he became aware of a noise close to him. Somebody talking. He strained to focus on the sound, realising it was Butters. 

“Mr Marsh?” the blond was saying. Stan frowned. Was his talking to him? As the blond continued, Stan realised that no, Butters was on the phone. He seemed a little flustered if his voice was anything to go by. “N-no, I’m sorry. I’m with him now. He’s not… Gee, I’m sure he feels mighty terrible about missing dinner, yes. But, Mr Marsh… Well… Okay. Golly, I think you might be a little drunk, Mr Marsh. Maybe you should let me speak to your wife? No, no, of course not! …I’m sure she is a, um… ‘fine piece of ass’, Mr Marsh, but I can assure you… Well, now, _really!_ You should be ashamed of yourself, mister! That’s hardly appropriate – ” 

Something inside Stan cracked and a sound escaped his lips. It puzzled him at first, feeling foreign on his tongue. It seemed to puzzle Butters, too. The blond stopped talking. 

It took Stan a little while to realise he was laughing. It was a manic, unhealthy sound that gurgled in his throat and wouldn’t stop however hard he tried. He laughed and laughed until his throat felt raw. He laughed through Butters trying to talk to him, he laughed through Kenny showing up and slapping his face. 

He laughed and laughed until his laughter descended into choked sobs and then he cried, only vaguely aware of arms that held him, of fingers that stroked through his hair. Fingers that weren’t Kyle’s. Fingers that would never be Kyle’s again.

The next thing Stan was aware of was walking through his front door. He stood there, staring blankly at the floor as his drunk of a dad started yelling at him for missing the family meal and spending the entire night out without letting them know he was okay.

Stan wanted to say that was because he wasn’t okay. He’d never be okay again. He wasn’t capable of words right now, though, so he only stared at the carpet. There was a stain on it, a black smudge of dirt. He stared at it. 

“Randy!” His mother slapped her husbands arm, worry furrowing in her eyes as she looked at her son. “Stan?” Stan didn’t look up. “Boys?” Sharon Marsh turned her attention to Kenny and Butters instead, fear pinching at her tone. “What happened?” 

Kenny bit his lip, his eyes flooding with tears at the sudden concern of an adult, a _real_ adult, instead of he and his friends who didn’t know what the fuck was going on however much they liked to bullshit otherwise. He shook his head. 

“Randy, take Stan upstairs,” Sharon said firmly after tilting her sons head towards her and seeing his dead eyes. She tenderly stroked a hand down her sons cheek as her quickly sobering husband awkwardly guided his son up the stairs. Apparently he was not idiot enough to miss the fact that something was seriously wrong. 

Stan didn’t say a word as Randy led him to his bedroom and tucked him up in bed. He didn’t even crack a smile as Randy tripped and face planted the carpet on his way out. He just stared at the ceiling, his brain as quiet as the room around him. 

Sharon had made tea for them all by the time Randy made it back down stairs. They all sat around the dining room table, a thick silence swamping them. The Marsh’s eyed the two teenagers wearily, taking in their tired, pale faces and blood shot eyes. Finally, Sharon broke the silence.

“What happened?”

Kenny wasn’t sure whether it was right to tell the Marsh’s before the Broflovski’s, but Stan’s parents were there, and worried and, _hell_ , Kenny really didn’t want to be the one to break the news to Kyle’s parents. That was way too much. It wasn’t something he could handle, even with Butters by his side. Maybe if he told Sharon and Randy, they could deal with what needed to be done. 

His gaze fell on the cup of tea he was nursing. He opened his mouth but no words came out. 

“Boys, please,” Sharon said desperately. “Something is horribly wrong with my son and I want to know what it is.”

Kenny liked Randy and Sharon. They’d always been kind to him and they were good parents, the kind of parents he wished his were. Sure, okay, Randy got drunk far too often and was a huge goddamn child but he still had a kind heart. Kenny hated that he was about to break it. 

“Kyle’s dead.” It came out just loud enough to be heard the first time, for which Kenny was entirely grateful. He wasn’t sure he could repeat those horrible words for all the money in the world. 

“Oh,” Sharon gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth as her eyes began to water. 

“Dead?” Randy said. “What do you mean, _dead_?” 

“Do his parents know?” Sharon asked before either blond could reply. She didn’t seem to doubt the authenticity of their words. Perhaps she had known it was the case from the moment she had locked eyes with her broken son. 

“Not yet,” Butters confessed. “We haven’t…”

“You mustn’t,” she said quickly, reaching out to grab Butters hands, her watering eyes a little manic. “Telling a parent that their child is dead… You boys shouldn’t have to do that.” Kenny felt a little weight lift from his heavy heart. “Randy, you should speak to Gerald.”

“Me? But – !” Whatever argument the man was going to use was silence by a sharp look from his wife. 

“Oh God… Oh, _Kyle_ …” Sharon said, the tears sliding freely down her cheeks now. Kenny knew that Kyle was near enough a second child to them. “What happened?” 

Kenny didn’t want to have to go over it but he wanted Butters to tell them even less. Butters was somehow holding himself together and Kenny didn’t want to risk that crumbling around him. If Butters cracked, Kenny would surely follow. So, somehow, he managed to tell the Marsh’s some watered down version of their evening. A version that didn’t include Eric Cartman being the wolf that killed Kyle and made no mention of his own grizzly deaths, nor of werewolves of any kind. Although adults knew just as well as their children of the strange happenings in South Park, it was easier just to bypass the weird shit. Less questions that way. 

“You think it was the same wolf that got Ned?” Randy asked. “Jim’s about ready to track the thing down and blow its brains out.”

Butters opened his mouth but Kenny cut over him, uncertain as to what the smaller blond would say. “Yeah, no doubt about it.”

“Have you spoken to the police yet?” Sharon asked, although it was obvious she knew they hadn’t. It probably looked suspicious as fuck that they hadn’t called the cops but Kenny couldn’t bring himself to care. Calling the cops would have just brought about a lot of questions that none of them were ready to answer. _Well you see, officer, our friend Eric is now a werewolf and_ he _killed Kyle. But no, it wasn’t intentional so you probably shouldn’t lock him away and throw away the key. Although, he might kill more people yet so maybe you actually should. Well, he might’ve, anyway, except he seems to have been kidnapped by the son of Satan. Why? Oh, I dunno, for some evil army I think…_ Yeah, no. 

“We just wanted to get Stan away as quickly as possible,” Kenny lied, his voice cracking. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Sharon said in a strange, broken voice. “Thank you for getting him home. You two should go home as well, now. We’ll sort out everything.” 

Kenny passed a hesitant look between Stan’s parents but, if he were honest, he’d much rather let them deal with the responsibilities than handle them himself. Feeling a little numb, Kenny nodded and allowed Butters and himself to be ushered to the door. 

Once they were alone in the cold, Kenny took Butters hand. “Can I come home with you?” he asked quietly. 

“Well of course you can bud,” Butters said. “What about Karen, though?” 

“I’ll phone her from yours. S’long as she stays inside she’ll be okay. I’m more worried about you tonight.” He gave Butters hand a squeeze. 

Butters entered the Stotch residence alone, greeted his parents as if he hadn’t been out all night ( _“And just where have you been, mister?”_ ) and as if Kyle hadn’t been horrifically mulled to death. He escaped to his bedroom as quickly as possible and unlocked the window. Moments later, Kenny was slipping through it, pulling Butters into a tight embrace. Finally feeling safe in the comfort of familiar surroundings, they succumbed to the tears that they had been failing to fight all night. Sinking to the floor, they cried and held each other, seeking comfort in one another’s presence. 

They spent hours like that, in each other’s arms on the floor, dozing in and out of a restless sleep. Kenny’s cell phone rang a couple of times, one of his bosses from his multiple jobs leaving an angry voicemail demanding to know where he was. Kenny ignored it. It was unusual for the impish blond but, right now, there was more important things than money. If he got fired, he could always find another job, after all. 

At some point late-afternoon, Butters snuck downstairs. Kenny awoke to shouting; Butters was getting another angry lecture from his parents. They probably thought he’d been out all night drinking with friends. Kenny wondered if they’d ease up on him if they knew the truth? Knowing the Stotch’s, probably not. He wanted to go downstairs and back Butters up, after all, the blond had had a terrible night and his parents being dicks clearly wasn’t going to help, but Butters wasn’t meant to have friends stay the night and Kenny’s presence would only make things worse. 

When Butters returned a short while later, he was carrying a tray with two apples and two glasses of orange juice. Kenny smiled at how very Butters that was. If it had of been him, he’d of brought up beer and waffles. 

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. My parent’s told me there’s heck to pay for staying out all night but I jus’ told ‘em to fuck off,” Butters said, putting the tray down. Kenny laughed out loud. It felt good to laugh, almost like he hadn’t done it in years when, in actuality, he had probably laughed a day or so ago. With Kyle gone, everything suddenly felt like it’d happened a lifetime ago. 

Butters chuckled and tossed Kenny an apple. He took his own apple and sat down at the edge of his bed, staring at the red fruit but not biting into it. 

“Thinking about…” Kenny trailed off, not wanting to say Kyle’s name out loud. Butters seemed to understand, though. 

“Hm? Oh, no, actually. Well, kinda. You see, buddy… With everything that’s happened, it’s got me thinking. About us.”

Kenny arched an eyebrow. “Us?” He wasn’t sure now was the best time to discuss their relationship but he certainly didn’t want to make Butters feel rejected at a time like this. 

Twisting the apple between his fingers, Butters was silent for a while. When he finally spoke, he didn’t look at Kenny. “Well, now, you follow Tweek around like a dog follows a bone. You’d follow him to the end of the universe, I think. An’ for a long time I just kinda accepted that I was always gonna be second best. That was okay, ‘cus second is better than nothing, y’know?”

“Butters – ”

“No, Kenny. Let me have my say, okay?” Taken aback, Kenny fell silent. Butters had looked up when Kenny had tried to interrupt, and now blue eyes locked onto lighter blue and Kenny found his heart jumping a little erratically. He liked when Butters took charge; it was kinda _hot._

Silence dragged out between them again as Butters considered what he was trying to say. Kenny figured he was about to end things between the pair of them and he couldn’t say he blamed him. It must be horrible to feel like an outsider in a relationship. 

Kenny’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t say anything to defend himself (what _could_ he say, really?) but he couldn’t stop the sweat on his palms or the overwhelming panic that consumed him like a hungry monster as he realised that Butters ending things with him was the last thing in the world he wanted. 

“You’re in love with Tweek, I get it,” Butter said but then, with a frown, he backtracked. “No, you’re in love with the _idea_ of Tweek. You like to be the hero, Kenny. Your thing is protecting people and, geez, Tweek is the perfect example of someone who needs protecting. Except, well, buddy, that’s _not_ what Tweek needs. It’s not what _you_ need either. Tweek doesn’t need to be wrapped in bubble wrap and protected, not by you, not by anyone. He needs to go out there and, well, you need to let him, okay? You need to let him go, fella, because you’re not only holding him back, you’re holding _yourself_ back. You’ve convinced yourself that only you can give him what’s best because there was a time when that was sort of true and neither of you ever moved on from that time.

“You need to let go, okay, buddy? I hate to break it to ya, but Tweek is never gonna love you back an’, well, I’m not sure you really want him too. I think you just like bein’ the one who gets called when he needs someone. You like bein’ his hero. Just like you like being Karen’s hero but let me tell you something that might make you awfully sore. You’re over protective to the point that Karen feels the need to sneak out and keep secrets an-”

“-What?” Kenny interrupted Butters rant. Ignoring him, Butters went to continue but the blood had drained from Kenny’s face. “Shut up, Butters,” he said, only a flicker of guilt working through his chest as he saw the blond’s reaction to his clipped tone. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. He pulled out his cell phone and dialled his sisters number. 

It rang and rang but she didn’t answer. Karen _always_ answered. 

“How do you know she sneaks out?” Kenny asked as he redialled, panic already thudding away at his chest. 

“Well, geez, I guess we sometimes chat on facebook?” Butters looked sheepish. “She loves you a whole lot, fella, but sometimes you suffocate her.”

The phone stopped ringing. Voicemail again. “Goddamnit, Karen!” Kenny hung up, slamming the battered phone down in frustration. When he brought it back up, there was a new crack on the already damaged screen. Relief washed over him as he realised it still worked. 

“What’s the matter?” Butters asked. 

“When I spoke to her earlier, I told Karen not to leave the house under any circumstance. If what you said is true and if my sisters more like me than I gave her credit for, then she probably ignored me. She’s not answering her phone. _Damnit_!” Kenny was on his feet, heading to Butters window. 

“She’s probably out with friends, fella, I wouldn’t – ”

“-She never ignores my calls!” Kenny practically growled. “There’s a fucking deranged werewolf out there that I’ve pissed off multiple times, Butters! He’d be an idiot not to try and get to me through my sister!”

As realisation crossed Butters round face, Kenny slipped out of the window, easily scaling down to the front yard. He hoped to God he was wrong, but the tightness tugging at his stomach suggested otherwise.

 _Karen._

It was time for Mysterion to rise again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Butters has given Kenny a lot to think about, except he probably won’t get round to thinking about it any time soon... *evil smirk* Kenny also didn’t give Butters a chance to conclude and give an ultimatum (I totally imagine him saying Kenny had to pick him or Tweek - here’s hoping when he does catch a break its Butters he choses because he deserves better than dwelling on somebody who will never love him back. On somebody he probably doesn’t even really love in that way either... Oh, Butters you insightful bean <3 )


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally giving Token a bit of screen time this chapter! :) Next chapter is back to Cartman, but after that I’m hoping to finally get to some good old Creek fluff. I’ve been denying you guys that for far too long, what with Kenny suddenly becoming more important than I’d first expected and then everything else that happened... I hope I didn’t lose too many of you along the way with my tangents haha

Craig watched as Tweek twitched his bruised nose, his mouth falling open slightly to release a low growl. The noirette hoped the blond wasn’t having nightmares. 

“I didn’t realise he actually slept,” Craig said to Token, careful to keep his voice low. Undisturbed, Tweek snuggled up closer to Clyde, who was snoring away, arms tucked tightly around the coffee addict. They looked cute like that, all innocent and peaceful. If it had been Kenny cuddled up with Tweek he doubted he’d think so, but there was just something very unthreatening about Clyde. Craig couldn’t bring himself to care about their tangled limbs. 

“He’s had a hard few days,” Token said, also watching the pair sleeping on the sofa in a tangle of blankets. 

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m not sure I could ever sleep again.” Token sighed and ran a hand over his cropped, dark hair. He was a little jealous of how soundly his two friends seemed to be sleeping. He was worried about what he might see if he succumbed to dreams. 

“I’m sorry,” Craig said quietly. Token didn’t need to ask what for.

“I don’t blame you.” And, as easy as it would be to, he didn’t. Mistakes had been made all around. They had paid for stupid decisions dearly but Token didn’t believe the fault could be pinned down to any one person in particular. Maybe this had all started because of Craig, but the man had clearly not wanted any of this mess to happen and he was suffering enough without his friends turning against him as well. 

“You should.”

“Hm. Well, we’ll wait and see what comes next first. Do you plan to stick around?” Last time he’d been asked that, Craig had said no. Now, though, he wasn’t too sure. He couldn’t imagine leaving Tweek again. Token seemed to read his mind. “I don’t think Tweek could handle it if you left like that again. If you decide to go, you need to give him closure.” 

“I would never just – ” Craig cut off. He’d been about to snap that he’d never just up and leave again but it was stupid to make promises he couldn’t necessarily keep. If it was safest for everyone – safest for _Tweek_ – that he up and vanish without a goodbye he’d do it in a heartbeat. It wasn’t what he _wanted_ but he’d do it none the less. There would be no more death, not if he could help it. 

“Why do you still love Tweek?” Token asked bluntly, the question coming out of nowhere. 

“What?”

“You’re in love with a boy you last saw when you were barely eleven. Don’t you think that’s a little odd?” 

“I – ” Craig had never been good with words. He was the stoic, quiet kind of guy. A man of little words. It didn’t bother him usually; he never had much to say anyway. Now, though, he wished he was better with words. He wanted to defend himself. 

Token seemed to realise his dilemma. His dark eyes softened. “He’s what got you through, isn’t he? You had to cling onto something good, something pure: a nice memory. You needed light to see you through the darkness.” Craig nodded numbly. After his parents had made him pack up and leave South Park, his life had become a living hell. After joining the Pack, he’d needed something to cling onto. Tweek had been that something. Tweek had seen him through everything, whether the blond knew it or not. Craig wasn’t sure he could ever stop loving someone who had helped him so much. 

“I don’t deserve him,” Craig said glumly, his gaze once again falling on Tweek. He’d done terrible things. To be honest, he was surprised Tweek hadn’t flipped him off and sent him home already. 

“Whether or not you do, Tweek loves you,” Token said. “He was never able to stop. He’s not wired that way. Him never moving on didn’t surprise me. It was you that did, though now that I understand, it’s less surprising.” 

“He shouldn’t. He should be with someone like Kenny.”

“He doesn’t want Kenny, though. And, if I’m honest, now that I stop and think about it, I’m not sure Kenny really, truly, wants him. He just thinks he does. One of these days, Ken’s going to lose Butters and realise what he wanted was right in front of him all along.”

“I doubt that,” Craig said in his normal, nasally voice. “I’ve seen the way he looks at Tweek.” 

“He looks at Tweek like he looks at his sister. He adores them both and wants nothing more than to protect them. I’ve been paying a lot of attention these past few hours and he doesn’t look at Butters like that. His eyes soften in a completely different way when he looks at Butters, and he respects him enough to not be overprotective. I honestly think, with Tweek, it’s a case of him not being able to segregate between feelings of love and being _in_ love.”

Craig blinked doubtfully. The way Kenny behaved around Tweek certainly screamed love to him but, either way, Token was definitely right about at least one thing. Tweek didn’t want Kenny. His surprise and horror as he’d been told Kenny had feelings for him had made that abundantly obvious. Craig kept doubting this, his brain trying to convince him otherwise because he considered himself wholly undeserving of Tweek’s love. His brain kept trying to convince him that Tweek’s concern over Kenny and his sister was because he was clearly in love with the other blond but that was only because his brain was a jerk and didn’t believe Tweek could ever love him. He shouldn’t, of course, but Craig couldn’t help the warmth that spread across him at the thought that he _did._

“What do you think I should do?” he asked Token, bringing the conversation back around to whether or not he should leave. 

“Honestly? I think you should stay. As long as your not a threat to Tweek or any of South Park. You’re _not_ , right?”

“I have the whole wolf thing under control,” Craig said in monotone. 

“Then, for Tweek’s sanity and health, I’d recommend you stay with him. He need’s to learn to stand on his own two feet, yes, but I think he’d be better at achieving that with you around. You give him confidence that he otherwise lacks. You make him believe in himself.”

“Fuck knows why,” Craig grumbled. 

“Because he loves you,” Token said. “And love is a pretty powerful asset.” 

Craig didn’t know what to say or do, so he did the only thing he was good at and flipped Token off. His friend cracked a smile at that. 

“You haven’t changed.”

“I think I’ve changed quite a fucking lot.”

“You may be a werewolf now but you’ve always been an ass,” Token said lightly, smiling. 

Craig laughed lightly, flipping the bird to his friend again. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. Craig was the one to finally break it. 

“Why did you really stay in South Park?”

“Honestly? The same reason most of us did. Tweek needed us.” 

“He doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Of course not. It’d tip him over the edge.”

“If I stay, does that mean you’ll be happy to go live your life? You want to be a lawyer or some shit, right? If you’re still anything like I remember, you need to be in some Ivy League school, not stuck in a dead end town like South Park.”

Token hummed. “I don’t know. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to research why so much weird things happen in South Park.”

“But you’d still rather be in college, right?”

Token didn’t deny it. 

It wasn’t that he _needed_ a reason to stay but the fact that Craig was being handed one anyway made his heart swell a little. The idea of leaving Tweek again was almost unbearable, especially now that he knew what his leaving had done last time. He couldn’t hurt Tweek like that again. Or Clyde. Or any of his old friends. 

“I want to stay,” Craig said, his gaze once more fixed on the sleeping form of Tweek. Despite his body being more black and blue than creamy, pale flesh, he looked so peaceful. Seeing him like that, Craig could almost forget about the horrors they had endured over the past few hours. _Almost._

“Then stay.” 

Could it really be that simple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In one of the early chapters, Tweek worried that Token didn’t really like him that much. If only he knew how much his friends care *hugs them all tightly forever*
> 
> Guys! For the first time **ever** I only have one more chapter pre-written. _Gulp_. I’ll try not to let that ruin my every-other-day update schedule but, like Craig, I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep
> 
> ILY all


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have lied a little when I said you’d all be back to hating Cartman soon. You can bet he’ll be causing Hell on Earth soon though. 
> 
> As promised, we’re still on track for Creek fluff next chapter <3

“Hey, Cartman! Cartman, wake up. Goddamnit, fatass. Wake the fuck up, fatty!”

“AY!” Eric shot up at the insult, alert and ready to kick ass. Instead, he groaned as his head smacked against something hard. Something hard that started cussing angrily. Rubbing his forehead, Eric blinked several times, trying to force the blurry world to swim back into focus. Greens and reds danced with one another until, finally, they drew together to form one solid shape. 

Eric blinked.

“Kahl?”

“My names Kyle. K-YLE, you great big ass-” Kyle was cut off as Eric launched himself at him, throwing his arms around the smaller man in a bone crushing hug. Kyle patted his back awkwardly. 

“They told me you were dead! They told me _I_ killed you!”

“Uh, well…” Kyle waited until Eric had drawn away slightly before smiling uncomfortably. His answer came out more like a question, “It isn’t a lie?” 

Eric slumped, before a thought occurred to him. “Wait! So if you’re dead, what’re you doing here?”

“Have you forgotten where you are?” Kyle sounded impatient. Eric clocked his surroundings. He had, in fact, forgotten that he was still in Hell. Though, that still didn’t answer his question. 

“I thought you were in Heaven?”

“I am, uh, I was. I mean, I will be. I called in a favour. Good job I’ve helped Jesus out so much over the years, huh?” 

Eric felt like he deflated. “So I killed you?”

“Yes, but that’s not important right – ”

“Not important?” Eric interrupted. “Goddamn Jew. I’d say it’s pretty fucking important!” 

“Well, okay, yeah… if I’m honest it sucks. Complete and utter bullshit. But it happened and, Cartman, it wasn’t your fault.” 

Wasn’t his fault? Well, that was unexpected. And completely fucking untrue, of course, though Eric couldn’t help but be glad to hear the words. 

“Are you… y’know… okay?” Eric struggled to get the words out. He didn’t like showing his softer side (yes, he did have a softer side, he just didn’t like it very much. Compassion and shit was for girls and fags.) but considering the situation and all… 

“Well, I mean… I was eaten alive.”

Eric shuddered. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you. Not really. God, It hasn’t really hit home yet, y’know? I’m never going to get to see my parents or little brother again and that’s bullshit! They don’t even know yet, you know? Nobody’s even told them. It’s going to destroy them…” Kyle trailed off, averting his forest green eyes which were filling with tears. 

“Kahl…”

“And then there’s Stan. I loved him so much. He was everything to me, you know? He was – ” He cut off abruptly as he caught sight of the pain in Eric’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Eric shook his head. It shouldn’t bother him. It wasn’t like he was in love with Kyle or anything. That would be fucking ridiculous. He knew Kyle loved Stan. Hearing the words shouldn’t do things to his heart and yet, the bloody traitorous organ was behaving like Eric had just been told KFC had gone out of business. 

“What is it you want from me, Kahl?” Eric almost winced at how cold his tone came out. Kyle certainly did. He hadn’t meant to sound like such a dick but even looking at Kyle right now was painful. The red head was dead because of him. He would never see his family again, never finish college, never have a career, never marry Stan… That was on Eric, whether Kyle blamed him or not. 

“Um. Okay, well, I wanted to ask you to help them out. That Alpha asshole needs taking down and I think you have to do it, Cartman.”

“Why the fuck should I do that?”

“Because they’re your friends, dumbass!”

“Maybe I’ve got something better lined up?” Eric averted his eyes, pushing dirt around with his foot. God, it was hot as, well, Hell down here. 

“If you’re talking about Damien’s offer to lead his army, don’t be a fucking idiot.”

“What the fuck, Kahl?! Just because you don’t realise my potential it doesn’t mean everyone’s as blind as you, okay? I happen to be just what he’s looking for.”

“That’s not something to be proud of, dumbass. He’s the fucking son of Satan!”

“And?”

Kyle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. For somebody who was dead, he looked tired. It made Eric’s stomach clench. 

“Look, fatass. You can be Damien’s lackey if you want _or_ you can take out the son of a bitch who turned you and become Alpha in his place.” Eric’s eyes sparkled at that. If he killed the alpha he took his place? He could rule a pack of werewolves? Oh man, that would be sweet. “Think about it, okay? I’ve got to go. I shouldn’t really be down here. God warned me if I stay too long I won’t be able to get back into Heaven.”

Eric scoffed. “Trust you to go to Heaven.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Kyle said, smiling gently. There was that damn palpitation again. Something had to be wrong with him, right? 

“Like fuck I’d miss you,” Eric said, but he made sure to keep his tone playful and flash the Jew a small smile. 

“Keep telling yourself that, Cartman. I know you can’t resist me.” He poked out his tongue but before Eric could respond, Kyle had vanished, leaving him alone in the sweltering heat of Hell. 

 

“Have you made a decision?” Damien was lounging on the pink couch with Pip, a tangle of naked limbs with only a thin blanket covering them. Neither seemed embarrassed by their nakedness in front of Eric, in fact, the noirette only winked playfully as he noticed him stare. 

“I’m going to have to decline.”

“Oh? That’s a shame.” Damien stood and Eric forced himself not to look away. Why did the antichrist get to be so chiselled and perfect? It hardly seemed fair. From his smirk and body posture, the smug bastard fancied himself a bit, too. “Can I do anything to change your mind?” 

“I’m not a fucking fag,” Eric said unconvincingly. He knew just what the son of Satan meant by ‘changing his mind’. 

“Really? Not even if I looked like this?” Eric blinked and suddenly, instead of Damien, Kyle stood in front of him, naked as the day he was born. Eric gulped, his eyes involuntarily sliding down from a pale chest, to a flat abdomen to… _Goddamnit!_

“Stop it,” he growled, forcing himself to tear his eyes away. _It’s not Kyle, it’s not Kyle, it’s not Kyle…_

“Are you sure?” He spoke in Kyle’s voice, using it in a seductive way the real red head never would. Walking slowly, Damien ( _He’s not Kyle, damn it!_ ) made his way to Eric, stopping directly in front of him, eye to eye. With a mischievous glint, he ran a finger down Eric’s broad chest, smirk growing the lower he got. 

It took everything Eric had to grab the small wrist and push the hand away. 

“Aw.” Kyle’s lips pouted. “You’re no fun.” Shaking his wrist free, suddenly the man before him was Damien again. Eric let out a breath, clenching his fists to stop the tremble in his fingers.

“Don’t. Do. That. Again.” 

“Well, if you’re sure,” Damien said. “You’re not really my type, anyway.” Turning back to Pip, the noirette bent over (he was doing this on fucking purpose, Eric was sure.) and ran a finger down the lanky mans cheek. “I much prefer blond’s.” Capturing Pip’s lips with his own, Eric was forced to watch the pair make out. It was almost as if Damien was doing everything in his power to make sure Eric _did_ leave. The larger man coughed pointedly. 

Damien didn’t pull away from Pip straight away. He bit the blond’s lower lip, pulling away with it still captured between his teeth. Pip moaned a little and it took everything Eric had not to storm away. He didn’t want to watch this shit! 

Finally, Damien pulled away and shrugged on a robe that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. He tied it loosely, not leaving much to the imagination. It was better than nothing, at least. 

“You’re a real asshole, you know,” Eric said. 

“I try my best.” Damien sat down on the couch, pulling Pip’s legs across his own. “So, tell me. Why’d you change your mind?”

“I never said I’d work with you in the first place,” Eric pointed out.

“You made it pretty damn obvious you were interested.”

“Yeah, well. I decided I don’t wanna work for nobody. I wanna be in charge, not take orders.”

“Ah, so this is about the Alpha position. You could do both, you know. I plan to take the surface for my own. Father just doesn’t have the drive I do. He’s quite happy ruling down here, playing happy families with his boyfriend of the week but that’s not me. I want so much more. I want it _all_.” 

Eric had to stop himself answering straight away. He had to stop and consider what Kyle would say to that because, to him, it sounded pretty sweet. Of course, the damn Jew wouldn’t approve, though. Fucking Kyle. Eric hated that he even cared what the other man would think about the situation. For Christ sake, he was dead! It was none of his business. Except… Eric was the one who killed him… 

“Look, I can give you some time to think about this. Go back up top, get your head straight, do some thinking… Give me an answer in a couple of weeks.”

That was fair. That, Eric could deal with. He nodded. 

“You might wanna lock yourself away tonight, so you don’t, y’know, eat any more of your friends,” Damien said, a glint in his red eyes. 

Before Eric could get so much as an ‘Ay!” out, he was suddenly standing in his bedroom, alone. He stood, glowering and staring around the empty room for a few minutes before everything caught up to him and he collapsed on his unmade bed, the world closing in around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh heh :P Kyle may be dead but that doesn’t mean he’s gone <3


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this didn’t turn out all that fluffy in the end, but there’s a couple of sweet moments :)

“Your parents’ll be back soon, right?” Craig asked as he rinsed soap suds of the plate he was washing up. Tweek stood beside him, watching. He’d tried to dry and put away but with his cast he’d had to do it one handed and, after breaking the first mug he touched, Craig gently suggested he take a load off. 

“Nngh, yeah. Like, in a couple of hours I think, man.”

“I’ll be out by then, then.”

“What? No way, man! You’re not going anywhere.” He caught Craig’s t-shirt in his good hand, clinging to it like that would stop the taller man from leaving if he wanted. 

“I can’t stay here. If nothing else, it’s the full moon tonight.”

“WHAA?” Releasing Craig’s shirt, his hand found his hair instead, tugging. He’d known the moon was creeping up on them but he hadn’t realised it had already arrived. “Shit, man! What do we do? What if you attack somebody? Or what if the government finds you and takes you to do experiments on and then I never see you again? I can’t handle that!” 

“Relax, Tweek.” Craig patted his hair, leaving the wild locks damp and soapy. “I’ll just shut myself away in the lab. I’ve done this plenty of times, nothing will go wrong.”

“But… But this is South Park, man! If something’s gonna go wrong, it’ll be here!” He did have a good point, but Craig was hardly going to admit that to the already anxious man. Instead, he turned back to the washing up, promising it would all be fine. Tweek continued to mutter under his breath about all the things that good go wrong. Craig rolled his eyes when he caught Tweek mention ‘aliens’. 

“Hey, wanna watch Red Racer?” Craig asked as he washed the last dirty mug and left it to drain on the side. The Tweak’s didn’t have a dishwasher in their home; apparently Tweek’s parents both enjoyed washing dirty dishes by hand or something. Tweek had been panicking about all the mugs he’d used over their two week business holiday and hadn’t bothered to wash and now, with his arm in a cast, couldn’t. There hadn’t been a lot there for two weeks worth and, judging by how skinny Tweek was, Craig realised he probably still lived mostly off of caffeine. “And maybe have a sandwich?” 

“Red Racer?” Tweek repeated blankly. “Jesus Christ, does that even still air?” 

“Yu _p_ ,” Craig said, his nasally voice almost cheerful. “It’s still just as good, too.” 

So they found themselves sat in front of the TV, watching Red Racer as if the past nine years hadn’t happened at all. The bread had been mouldy, but Tweek had scavenged out a packet of slightly stale cookies for them to munch on as they lounged around. Twitching away nervously, Tweek nursed a mug of coffee and was unable to chill out because Craig was sitting right next to him, leg almost touching his own. At one point, their knees bumped and Tweek let out an involuntary yelp, spilling warm coffee over himself. 

They didn’t talk but, occasionally, they would smile when they caught the other staring. Just when Tweek was starting to work up the nerve to say something, Craig announced he should leave. 

“You’re parents should be back soon, right?” Tweek checked the time and felt his heart sink. He had maybe ten minutes; his parents were very punctual. He dreaded how they were going to react when they found out everything that had happened while they’d been away. He wasn’t sure he was emotionally stable enough to deal with their disappointment right now. Whenever he wasn’t thinking about Craig, he was remembering what had happened to Kyle and it made him feel like sobbing hysterically. 

“Can’t you stay longer?” Tweek all but whimpered. Clyde and Token had left hours back to go their retrospective houses and Tweek wasn’t sure he wanted to face his parents alone. 

“Do you think that’s wise?” Craig arched an eyebrow. “I mean, I will if you need me to, but as far as they’re concerned I skipped out on you all those years ago without even a goodbye.” He lowered his gaze as he finished speaking. It wasn’t just as far as Tweek’s parents were concerned, it was what had actually happened and Craig hated himself for it, his fault or not. 

Tweek wanted to tell Craig that his parents probably wouldn’t even remember him but that would be a lie. Richard Tweak had been inconsolable for days after Craig had vanished, nearly as bad as Tweek himself. Having a gay son had been great for business. Having a son whose boyfriend had had to skip town to escape said crazy son was less so. For the first few years after the Tucker’s had left, Richard would casually bring Craig up in a way that would make Tweek feel small and pathetic. _“Well, son, maybe you should have thought about that before you drove away the one good things that ever happened to you.”_

“ _Nngh_!” Tweek shuddered at the memory. “Maybe you _should_ leave, man.”

“Meet me at Stark’s Pond tomorrow morning?” Craig asked as he made his way to the door. 

Tweek blinked at Craig in surprise. He was surprised that Craig wanted to see him again (though, logically, he knew that was stupid) and he was surprised that Craig was happy to let him walk to Stark’s Pond alone. Not that Tweek was complaining. He wasn’t sure what would be worse: Craig never wanting to see him again or Craig thinking him incapable of doing a fifteen minute walk alone. 

“Yeah, sure, man. Uh, will you be up for it?”

“What, because I’m going to transform into a monster tonight?” Craig smirked. “I’ll be fine. See you there.” He ruffled Tweek’s hair again and left, leaving Tweek alone with only his thoughts for company. 

When he heard his parents car, dead on time, Tweek flipped out. He started ripping into his hair, panicking over what he was meant to say to them. They had left him in charge and he had screwed up real bad. When his parents entered the house a few minutes later, he was curled up in a small ball against the wall, rocking. 

“Tweek?” his mother said. She had always been slightly more concerned with her son’s sanity than Richard. She was the one who had found a psychiatrist for him and drove him to his bi-weekly appointment. 

Tweek didn’t look up or halt his rocking. 

“Sweetie?” she tried again, crouching down to his level. “What happened?”

“Son? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the shop?”

“Richard!” His mother hissed. At the annoyance in her tone directed at her husband and not at himself, Tweek finally looked up. “Oh sweetie,” she said as she saw his bruised face. She pulled her arms around him carefully, enveloping him in her arms where he stayed, rigid with shock at the unexpected contact. 

“You’re not angry?” Tweek’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. He couldn’t relax into her hold until he knew either way. 

“Why would I be angry, Tweek? What happened? Who did this to you?” Tweek didn’t know what to tell her. His parents had never really believed most of the supernatural things that happened in South Park. Somehow, they always seemed to miss it, completely oblivious in their own little worlds. When Tweek used to recount some of the weirder stuff over dinner, they had smiled and nodded as if Tweek was telling them a story or had been playing make-believe. Because of that, telling them a werewolf had attacked him was likely only going to land him back in his shrink’s office. 

“Nngh!” He pulled at his hair with his good arm, eyes huge as he tried to think up an acceptable lie. “Somebody broke in and attacked me,” he said finally. Coming up with a lie was too much pressure. At least this way, he was telling the truth, even if it wasn’t the _complete_ truth. 

“Somebody broke in?” his dad asked, frowning, eyes scanning the room. “Did they take anything?”

“Gah! No! I think they realised I was home and didn’t want to risk me calling the police or something. Jesus, I don’t know!” 

His mom shushed him, pulling him closer against her. “ _Did_ you call the police?” 

“Jesus Christ NO! That’s way too much pressure, man!” As soon as the shrill words escaped his lips, Tweek couldn’t help but wonder whether that had been a mistake. Maybe they _should_ have called the police, if not for their own sakes, then at least for Kyle’s. Tweek didn’t even know if anyone had told the Broflovski’s that they would never be seeing their son again yet. He suddenly felt horribly ashamed that this thought hadn’t occurred to him earlier. Pulling away from his mother, he slammed his head into the wall.

“Tweek! Don’t do that!” His mom reached out to stop him, her eyes wide in horror. One hard slam was enough to bring down an instant headache upon Tweek, reminding him what the doctor had said about avoiding more blows to the head. He let out a hysterical sob but managed to refrain from slamming his head against the wall again. 

An hour late, Tweek was in his room, nursing a steaming mug of coffee. His dad had tried to ask about the coffee shop but his questions had made Tweek distressed and his mother had quickly put a stop to it. Tweek had heard his father on the phone, sounding more and more agitated as whoever he spoke to clearly told him what a failure his son was and how the family business had suffered in his hands. 

“How are you doing?” His mother poked her head around his door, a vague smile on her lips. She looked like she’d returned to her normal, slightly indifferent personality now that the shock of seeing her son had worn off. Tweek didn’t mind; he’d grown used to his parents being near enough absent. It was weirder having them _care._

“ _Nngh_ , I’m fine,” he said, gulping down a large swig of coffee. “Is dad mad?”

“Your father isn’t happy,” she said. “It was very irresponsible of you to send Lizzie away like that. She didn’t want to come back, but I think Richard’s convinced her.”

“What about – _nngh_ – not opening up?” 

His mother pursed her lips. “It was just a couple of days,” she said finally. “We’re heading over there now to crunch numbers. You just get some rest.” 

Tweek nodded and watched her go, his heart sinking as she did. He could tell she was disappointed with him. He would have almost preferred her to shout at him. Shouting would have been better than the nothing he’d basically gotten. She hadn’t even pressed into why he had been such a wreck. Maybe, if she’d have asked, he might have admitted that one of his friends had just been killed horribly and that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sleep again. Although… that wasn’t true. Tweek felt guilty as he remembered falling asleep with Clyde after they returned to his house. He’d just been so damn tired. Almost being killed multiple times of the past few days was sure draining. 

As it got darker outside, Tweek reaffirmed his suspicions that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep. He couldn’t tear his mind away from Craig. His gaze kept creeping towards his window, where the curtains were still open, revealing the darkness outside. In the sky, he spied the large, round, silvery orb that was the moon. He couldn’t help but feel angry towards it. If it wasn’t for the full moon, Craig wouldn’t suffer as he did every month. Rushing over to the window and nearly tripping in his haste, Tweek flipped off the moon. It was a little gesture, but he was sure Craig would appreciate it. 

 

Tweek made it to Stark’s Pond without incident the next morning. He was early but Craig was already there, sitting on the bench, staring out at the water. He tilted his head up as the blond came to a nervous stop to his right. Craig looked haggard, dark circles lining his blue eyes. When he smiled, though, he looked fresher faced and happy. 

“You came.” Craig almost sounded surprised.

“Well, yeah. Of course, man!”

“I wasn’t sure if you would. I thought maybe all this shit would catch up with you and you’d steer well clear. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Jesus Christ!” Tweek tugged nervously at his hair. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“No,” Craig said, turning his gaze back towards the water. “You probably wouldn’t.” He sounded just as tired as he looked. 

Biting his bottom lip nervously, Tweek perched at the edge of the bench. He twisted his hands in his lap, his cast resting against his thigh. 

“How was last night?” he asked quietly, peeking at Craig from the corner of his eye. 

“No worse than usual,” Craig said. “I was worried about Cartman, though.”

“GAHH! Jesus Christ! I’d almost forgotten about him.” Somehow, that was true. He felt bad now, for spending his entire night worrying about Craig and not sparing Cartman a second thought. “Do you think he’s okay, man?”

“We don’t even know where he is,” Craig sighed. “I just hope he was somewhere safe. I’d have liked to have kept him at the lab with me.”

“I mean, if he’d have killed anyone it would have been on the news, right?” Tweek tugged at his fingers in lieu of his hair. His head still hurt from all the abuse it had suffered over the past couple of days, tugging at his hair probably wouldn’t help matters. 

“Was Kyle on the news?”

“Well… no. Jesus, do you think his parents know yet? Oh God, what if they don’t? Who would have told them, man? They might be waiting for him to come home.” 

“Kenny took Stan home, right? So Stan’s parents probably know and I doubt they’d withhold that information.” Craig was just as logical as Tweek remembered him being. 

“You’re right, man,” he said but he pulled out his phone regardless. “I might send Kenny a text, though. Just to check. Jesus, I don’t want to have to tell Kyle’s parents, man. That would be way too much pressure.” 

It took Tweek several minutes to type out a legible text. Kenny’s reply came quickly. 

_They know. Stan’s parents went to see them, I think. I’m going to be away for a few days, take care of yourself, Tweekers x_

Tweek reread the message, his eyebrows knotting together. He showed Craig the message, not noticing the frown that formed across the noirettes lips as he saw the single kiss. “Where d’you think he’s going, man?”

Craig’s frown deepened. “Probably nowhere good.”

“Shouldn’t we… well… stop him or something?” 

“You think we can?”

Tweek thought out it. Kenny was stubborn and had a hero-complex. “Probably not. _Gah!_ You don’t think he’s gone after Cole, do you?” He was worrying his fingers together so much they were starting to hurt. Slipping his phone away, Tweek resolved to sit on his hands as to not do any further damage. 

“He’d be a fucking idiot if he has.”

“ _Nngh,_ this is Kenny,” Tweek pointed out but, of course, Craig didn’t know any of his old friends like Tweek now did. It made Tweek sad to realise this. Craig was essentially an outsider, a stranger. He didn’t feel like that to Tweek, though. Around Craig, he felt like time had reverted back to when they were ten years old and the entire town was shipping them together. Not wanting to think of Kenny and the danger he was probably landing himself in, Tweek decided to comment on their history together instead. “Hey, do you remember how we got together, man? Back then?” He knew Craig did, they’d already briefly discussed it but it was nice to reaffirm that the memories were important enough to Craig that he remembered them, too. 

“Of course. I remember all of it. Those damn Asian girls.” 

“You’re mad at them?” Tweek felt his fragile heart crack. 

“No,” Craig said calmly. “But I would have preferred to have realised my feelings on my own. Though, I guess, if that had been allowed to happen, we might not have managed to get together before my useless father screwed up my life forever.” 

“So… you liked me before they put the idea in your head?” Tweek asked quietly. 

“I’ve already told you our relationship was always real to me,” Craig said. He turned to meet Tweek’s eyes, giving a small smile. “So of course I did.”

Tweek felt his cheeks heat up. “Me too, man,” he said quickly. 

They sat in silence for a short while. Birds chittered around them and the cool wind whipped at their ears and noses but, otherwise, it was quite peaceful. It felt natural, just sitting together. Like it was something they were meant to do. 

“I’ve been thinking of sticking around,” Craig said finally, breaking the peace. Tweek squealed in surprise, clamping his hands over his mouth to conceal it. 

“You are?” he squeaked between his fingers. Craig gave a low, throaty loud. 

“Is that something you might like?”

“Of course, man! Yes, definitely!” His words tumbled out of his mouth so fast they practically stuck together. 

“Good,” Craig said softly. They went back to sitting in silence and suddenly the bird chattering was the most beautiful music to ever grace Tweek’s ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided I’m gonna start wrapping this up soon. I have another SP supernatural fic I’m desperate to work on and this one’s become a real struggle to write. Besides, it’s already way longer than I ever expected it to be, as I’ve said before, I don’t usually write long fanfics lol. That said, we’ve still gotta wind up the whole Cole and Damien storylines so we’re definitely looking at a bunch more chapters yet. Just giving you guys a heads up :)


	27. Chapter 27

The next few days passed fairly uneventfully. Yes, they were all beyond worried about Kenny and Karen after a frantic Butters had filled them in on the little he knew and, yes, Cartman was back and claiming he was going to become the next Alpha wolf. Cartman had also brought news that Damien was planning to take over the Earth, so that was pretty bad. Still, despite all the bad news and their constant worrying over Kenny and Stan (who still hadn’t so much as said a word) nothing had actually come of any of it. It was, dare they think it, quiet. Nobody else, that they knew of, had died or been maimed in any way. 

News about Kyle had spread through South Park like wildfire. His parents and brother were MIA, refusing to answer the door or phone to anyone wishing to express their condolences. Tweek wasn’t even sure whether they were still in town. He’d walked past their house with Craig a couple of times and it was always dark. He half wanted to knock on the door and tell them that Cartman had seen Kyle and that he was okay (well, as okay as you could be once dead) but that was a lot of pressure. The idea of sitting down with the grieving family he didn’t even know well to tell them their son was in Heaven and trying to talk Eric Cartman out of assisting Hell in literally overthrowing the Earth (again!) was not something he fancied doing. He had, instead, told all of this to Stan as he sat in the noirette’s dark bedroom, holding his lifeless hand. Stan hadn’t even looked at him. His parents were beyond themselves with worry. 

Talking of parents, Tweek’s had made him apologise to Lizzie the day after they returned. The entire exchange had been awkward and there had been no sympathy in the girl’s eyes despite Tweek’s many injuries. Still, she had said that, as long as she didn’t have to work with Tweek again, she was happy to stay with the company. That suited Tweek just fine. His parent’s, too, seemed okay with the arrangement, happy to never have Tweek work for them another day in his life. 

“Have you heard from Kenny?” This was the first thing Tweek asked Butters as he arrived at Token’s the night that marked a week since Kyle’s death. They’d decided to get together to toast to their friend. It was a small, uninspiring gesture but it was the best they could do. 

“Gee, no, I haven’t fella,” Butters said, twisting his thumbs together nervously. There was a sadness in his eyes. “I was actually hoping you might’ve.”

“No,” Tweek said bluntly. 

“Karen’s officially been marked as missing now, right?” Clyde asked. He was noisily munching away on a bag of chips. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was clearly comfort eating and in distress, Tweek might have snapped at him. His mood had been growing increasingly irritable as he worried about Kenny and his little sister. Only Craig had been able to successfully calm him down, but Craig was yet to arrive at the apartment. Cartman was also absent, as was (obviously) Stan. As far as they all knew, Stan had yet to even leave his bed, let alone his house. 

“Yes,” Token said. He had his iPad in his lap, scanning the news feed for anything new. “The police have no leads though, apparently.”

“Shocker. This is the South Park police force after all,” Clyde said. Before anyone could say anything further, there was a knock on the door. Tweek squealed, the loud sound startling him. Butters got up to answer it.

Craig and Cartman stood together in the doorway. Much to Cartman’s displeasure, Craig had been insisting on giving him ‘werewolf lessons’ daily since the larger mans return from Hell. Despite complaining like a little bitch, Cartman hadn’t missed a single lesson yet. They suspected he was desperate not to let there be another Kyle.

Tweek sank up against Craig’s side as soon as the noirette sat down. He felt his nerves and irritability calm almost instantly. Suddenly, even Clyde’s loud munching didn’t bother him. 

“Ay! You better be planning on sharing them, Donovan!” Cartman almost looked as if he’d stolen Tweek’s irritability and had swallowed it like a cheeseburger. His tone was so clipped that Clyde handed over the opened bag without protest. It probably didn’t help that he was scared of Cartman, too. They all were, a little. They’d all seen the aftermath of what he could do now and they’d thought he’d been bad before!

It didn’t seem to bother Cartman that they were all clearly uneasy around him now. If anything, he seemed to think that was preferable. He’d mentioned something about wanting to practise being a feared leader. They all saw the pain in his eyes when he thought they weren’t looking, though. He was suffering just as much as them but he’d chosen to do it alone. 

Their evening was very subdued. Nobody felt much like talking or laughing. Mostly, they were all caught up in their own heads, but it was nicer to be caught up in their own heads together rather than alone. At least silent support was better than no support. The thought made Tweek’s heart pang for Stan, alone in his bedroom with only his helpless parents poking their heads around the door with no idea how to help him. 

Although the evening had meant to be about Kyle, none of them could bring themselves to mention his name. It was too hard, too recent, too painful. At one point they clinked their glasses together in a silent toast, hoping that the red head would know the toast was in his honour. 

Easier to talk about was Kenny, so Tweek spent most of his time when not sitting in silence pressed up as close as he could get to Craig without mounting him, grilling Butters. He wanted to know every detail of their last interaction and didn’t listen when Token and Clyde tried to tell him he was being too harsh on the other blond. Craig stayed mostly silent through all of this. 

Eventually, Clyde crashed and had to be briefly woken to be manoeuvred into Token’s spare room. Ten minutes later, Cartman sleepily muttered ‘Screw you guys, I’m going home’ and left with Butters following him out. 

When it was just the three of them, Token stood. He didn’t look even remotely tired as he declared he was going to bed. “The couch pulls out if you guys wanna crash here.”

It was just the two of them. 

“Want me to walk you home?” Craig asked, stretching his legs out on the couch and making himself comfortable. 

Tweek hesitated. He didn’t sleep well in other people’s houses but, then, he never slept well anyway. This past week he’d slept less than ever, drinking more and more coffee to see him through. 

“Nah, man. I might stay here.”

“Good,” Craig patted the small space on the couch next to him sleepily. Tweek didn’t hesitate before slipping into the small spot. 

“Token said it pulls out,” he pointed out. 

“Meh.” Craig rolled, pulling his arm around Tweek’s waist and heaving the smaller man closer against him. He was exhausted, it was the only explanation for his clinginess when he’d been so careful not to do anything that might be inappropriate since returning. 

“You smell good,” Craig mumbled sleepily, his warm breath tickling Tweek’s neck. The noirette had his face buried in the halo of blond that made Tweek’s hair. 

“How much did you drink, man?” Tweek asked in a small, strangled voice. 

“Not drunk, just tired,” Craig said, tightening his hold around Tweek. 

“You should probably sleep then.” 

“Mmm…” Craig agreed. He shuffled his position a little, moving Tweek with him, and pressed his cheek against the blond’s. Tweek lay still, his body rigid, unable to relax. Craig holding him like this was… _well_ , amazing but Tweek couldn’t help but worry he’d somehow screw it up. Or, worse, Craig would wake up and realise what he was doing and would distance himself. 

Seemingly unable to not notice the stiff body he was trying to curl up against, Craig sighed. “What is it?”

“ _Nngh_ … nothing.” 

“I’ve seen dead bodies less stiff than you.” He trailed off towards the end of the sentence, seeming to realise how inappropriate it was all things considered. “Tweek…”

Taking a deep breath, Tweek rolled over in his small, designated spot on the couch, so that he was eye to eye with Craig. 

“I keep expecting you to disappear,” he said quietly. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. Then I’m right here, okay?” He reached out and gently brushed his thumb against Tweek’s cheek. “I won’t go anywhere ever again,” he promised. And then Tweek’s breath caught as Craig shifted his head slightly, clicking their noses together like puzzle pieces and brushing his lips against his own, slightly chapped pair in a kiss that sent fireworks exploding in Tweek’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Only took them 27 chapters!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this chapter is so short but at least I got it to you on time. For a while I wasn’t sure I was gonna. I’ve been writing like crazy these last couple of days but _on the wrong project_ (oops!) haha. Hopefully, though, I should be able to start posting my new fic very soon. It’s another supernatural one but way more focused on the relationships, which are... **drumroll** Twenny, Creek and Bunny (with potential side pairings of Style and (you’ll be proud, Slushie) Tyde) It also includes _*gulp*_ smut... Anyway, I’ll let you guys know when I start posting in case any of you are interested.

The first thing Tweek realised when he woke was that he’d actually slept, and slept well by the looks of it. He felt well rested, a feeling it wasn’t particularly used to. The second thing he noticed, rather quickly as well, was that Craig was gently breathing in his ear, still curled around him and fast asleep. They’d drifted off kissing one another; Tweek smiled at the memory. Despite everything horrible that had happened, that one night had been perfect. 

“You’re awake,” Token entered the room from the kitchen, handing Tweek a steaming mug of coffee. Gently (and reluctantly) wiggling free from Craig, Tweek blushed and accepted the mug but, if Token held any judgment towards the pair of them for falling asleep curled up in each other’s arms, he didn’t voice it. 

“Thanks man,” he said quickly, after gulping down some of the boiling liquid. He knew it was his imagination, but it was like he felt the caffeine seep into his veins, rejuvenating him. “Where’s Clyde?”

“Still dead to the world. You know what he’s like.” 

“Did you sleep?” Token shook his head. He looked exhausted as he took a cautious sip of his own boiling coffee. “I know I’m not one to talk but you should definitely try and get some sleep, man!”

“I will,” Token promised. “It’s just… I close my eyes and I see Kyle.” He shuddered. Tweek wasn’t used to seeing Token let go of his tightly bound emotions. It was weird seeing him so… vulnerable. It was almost scary. Token was the one he could always rely on to keep a calm, cool head on his shoulders. It was rare to see him anything other than placid or, perhaps, slightly irritated at some ignorant thing Cartman had just said. 

“I know what you mean, man. Jesus Christ, I’m surprised I managed to sleep at all!”

“You relax when you’re with Craig,” Token observed, watching the sleeping noirette with interest. “He’s good for you.” He almost sounded surprised. 

Tweek hesitated, glancing at Craig’s sleeping form. He felt ready to burst, he needed to tell someone. “We kissed, man!”

Token nodded. “I thought you might have.”

“ _NNgh_ …You’re not surprised?” 

“Of course not. It’s been inevitable since he returned.”

“Do you think I’m making stupid decisions? Setting myself up to be hurt again?” Craig had promised he wouldn’t leave again but Tweek couldn’t help but worry… Eventually Craig had to see that Tweek was crazy, that Tweek wouldn’t make him happy and, when that ultimately happened, Tweek wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He’d almost killed himself on several occasions after the noirette had left the first time; Tweek wasn’t sure he’d survive him leaving again. 

“I think that, in this moment, you’re exactly what the other needs. I can’t speak for the future, Tweek but, as we’ve learned recently, sometimes the future’s not as big as we hope. Enjoy _now_.” With that, Token stood, offered Tweek a small smile and then vanished back into his bedroom. 

Tweek turned his gaze back to Craig. He’d gown up into such a handsome man. Tweek couldn’t fathom what he saw in him. Tweek was nothing but a scrawny, twitchy, scar covered spaz. Craig could do much better and yet… For some reason it seemed that he wanted Tweek. It didn’t make sense. Tweek didn’t understand it one bit. He kept staring, as if trying to riddle it out. 

“What?” Craig asked sleepily, startling a yelp from the blond. Cracking open a single eye, Craig said “I can feel you staring at me.”

“Gahh! How long have you been awake?” Had he heard the conversation Token and he had shared? Not that there was wrong with anything either of them had said in their brief exchange but still, Tweek hated the thought of Craig having heard him ask if he was making a mistake. He wasn’t sure how Craig would feel about him telling Token they’d kissed, either. Craig had always been a private person as a child. It was something Tweek had never managed. He had to share his feelings otherwise they would burst out through his chest like aliens or something. 

“Not long.” Craig yawned and stretched and Tweek felt himself relax. “Is that coffee?” He eyed Tweek’s half full mug and, surprising himself, Tweek handed it over. Craig arched an eyebrow before grinning, taking a swig. “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in a long time.”

“ _Nngh_ … me either,” Tweek confessed. “It kinda makes me feel bad though, man!”

“Because of Kyle?”

“Mmm,” Tweek agreed, twitching and already deeply missing his coffee. “And Kenny, man. We don’t know where he is or if he’s alive or – ”

“He’s alive,” Craig said. When Tweek started to protest, Craig simply added “He’s Kenny. He can’t die.” Tweek tried to protest (although something about Craig’s words rang true, confusing Tweek further) but the noirette laughed and leaned forward, ruffling Tweek’s already disastrous hair. “He’ll be fine. He’ll find his sister and she’ll be fine too.”

“What if – _nngh!_ – Cole had turned her, man?! She could be a werewolf. She could be dead! Jesus Christ, she’s only a kid!”

“If – _If_ – Cole’s turned her, then I’ll make sure she’s okay. I’ll help Kenny look out for her when he’s unable too. But she’s probably fine, Tweek. We don’t even know for sure that Cole took her. It was me he was after.”

“GAH! Actually, man, it was me! But then Kenny pissed him off! Oh God, Kenny’s going to die, isn’t he? I knew he shouldn’t have – ” Craig leaned forward and took Tweek’s hands, squeezing them. 

“Tweek, honey. Deep breaths.” Tweek felt a blush spread across his cheeks. _Honey_. Craig used to call him that, along with babe, all the time as children but he hadn’t called him anything but his name since returning. It just gave Tweek something else to panic about. A _good_ kind of panic, though. 

They spent a couple of minutes breathing together, their hands still entwined. Tweek didn’t want to ever let him go again. Eventually, though, he realised that he _really_ needed another mug of coffee. He’d surrender half of his first cup of the day and was already seriously regretting it, even if it had been to Craig. 

“Better?” the noirette asked. 

Tweek nodded and stood, mumbling about caffeine. Craig laughed and followed him into the kitchen. “This is a nice place, isn’t it?” he commented, staring around Token’s impressive apartment. 

“Well, of course, man! It’s Token’s place, what d’you expect?” 

“I guess that’s true.” He fell silent as he watched Tweek pour himself some coffee from the machine. He waited until Tweek had taken a deep swig. “If I were to get a place – not as nice as this, of course – d’you think… Would you want to move in?” 

Tweek almost dropped his coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little fast maybe, don’t you think, Craig? 
> 
> Now that I no longer have any pre-written chapters left for this fic, it’s hard to know where it’s going but I _think_ we’ll be catching up with Kenny next chapter. If I can ever tear myself away from my new fic long enough to write it...


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support :) I’ve decided I’m no longer going to pressure myself to stick to my ‘every other day’ upload schedule. I’d rather take my time and bring you the content you deserve than force myself to write a chapter and have the quality suffer. Saying that, this chapter just flew out of me so who knows, maybe you will still get regular updates, we’ll see haha. Either way, I still hope to upload at least once a week :D 
> 
> My new fic is up, by the way. Here There Be Heathens. I’m quite overwhelmed with how well it seems to have been received seeing as I only started posting yesterday <3

Kenny dropped from the roof, tuck and rolled and bounced back to his feet, narrowly missing tripping on his cloak. He was dressed as Mysterion but he didn’t _feel_ like Mysterion. No, right now he just felt like a frightened teenager, scared for his sister’s life. 

It had been a week. A whole, _goddamn_ week. And yet, still, he hadn’t found her. That bastard werewolf had left a breadcrumb trail of clues but they all led to absolutely nothing. Kenny was no closer to finding Karen than he had been the day she’d gone missing. 

He was sure this new lead would be just as useless. 

He’d found one of her shoelaces, black with purple woven intermittently, tied to a jagged piece of glass in an abandoned warehouse in Denver. Her fucking shoelace! Hell if Cole wasn’t screwing with him! There had also been blood on the shard of glass but Kenny had chosen not to think too much about _that._

Poked through the shoe lace had been a small piece of charred paper. An address had been scrawled on it. 

She _was_ alive. She _had_ to be alive. He wouldn’t allow himself to think otherwise. 

As he walked, his subconsciously pressed his hand against his cell phone, wishing it had been as simple as using Find My Phone to track her down. Of course Cole hadn’t been that stupid, though. Kenny had tried fruitlessly but Karen’s phone was off or, more likely, smashed to pieces and abandoned somewhere. Kenny was surprised _that_ hadn’t been one of the random clues left behind for him like the shoelace had been. 

For the first couple of days, his own cell phone had gone off every half hour or so. Mostly it was Butters or Tweek. Begging him to stay safe. Begging him to let them help. Begging him to come home. Like fuck was he coming home until he had his sister safe and sound with him. After the third day, he’d turned his cell off. 

When he wasn’t thinking about Karen (which was, admittedly, only about one percent of the time) then he was thinking about the two blonds. He worried over how they both were. He worried about them worrying about him (he totally wasn’t worth it) and he worried over what he was going to do when he got back, after Karen was safe (he wasn’t even willing to humour the alternative.). Butters words had stayed with him through this past week of hopelessness and desperation. 

Kenny liked to play the hero, Butters had said. ‘His thing’ was protecting people. _You’re in love with the_ idea _of Tweek._

Well, look where playing the hero had gotten him! 

Karen was missing, Tweek was probably back with Craig, he’d probably screwed things up forever with Butters and Karen was _goddamn_ missing!

_If she’s alive, I swear I’ll never interfere again. I’ll be a good, normal guy. I’ll make sensible choices. I’ll fix things with Butters. I’ll never be Mysterion again… Please,_ please _just let her be okay!_

He was almost at the address Cole had left for him. He wondered what stupid breadcrumb would have been left for him this time. At least the alpha hadn’t gotten onto body parts yet. God, Kenny would rip the bastard to shreds if he so much as plucked a hair from her head…

The warehouse was just as decrepit as the last one. In the dark gloom, it almost looked like it should be haunted. Ghosts wouldn’t surprise him. In fact, they’d be a welcome distraction from the otherwise nothing he was about to find inside. Nothing except… Kenny didn’t know… Her other shoelace, perhaps? A sock? The thought of a sock made him too angry. If that alpha asshole had so much as removed a single sock from his sister he would _definitely_ kill him. Kenny was definitely going to kill him either way, if he were honest, but how violent it was depended on the state of Karen when he finally found her. 

As with all the previous locations he’d been herded to, Kenny moved silently through the warehouse, sticking to the shadows, allowing them to practically eat him. So far, none of the locations had had anyone laying in wait but, eventually, his luck was going to run out. Cole was trying to rile him up and drop his guard. Eventually, one of the places would be a trap. What was the point otherwise? 

It took twenty minutes of searching the empty building to find his next clue. His heart froze solid and an icy gush of breath squeezed its way past his clenched teeth. 

Blood. 

There was a single puddle of blood, enough to be concerning, in the centre of one of the smaller offices. It was fresh enough that only the outer inch had congealed. In the centre was an origami ship, wilted and stained red. 

Stiffly, Kenny walked over to it. He reached out, hesitated, and then picked up the ship, unfolding it carefully, as to not tear it. The blood that had soaked into it had rendered the message almost unreadable. Kenny had to turn on his cell phone to use as a torch, but even then he only just made out the address. 

Above the location was the word _scalding._

Kenny took that to mean he was close. The first note he’d found had said _ice cold._

As he memorised the address, his phone burst into life, making him jump as it sang out in the otherwise silence. For a moment, Kenny thought it was ringing, but no, he just had _that_ many texts coming through now that he’d switched the bloody things back on. 

_‘Where the fuck are you, man?’_ was the latest of many he’d received from Tweek. 

_‘Kenny, I’m worried. Please let me know you’re okay xxx’_ Butters had sent. There was only one other from Butters. _‘Bring Karen home safe xxx’_

Unable to stop himself, Kenny hit the call button. Butters picked up on the first ring. “Are you okay? Have you found her?”

“No and no,” Kenny replied quietly. 

“Oh, Kenny,” Butters sounded heartbroken. Kenny really didn’t deserve him. 

“Tell me something good,” Kenny said after a prolonged silence. He needed something to keep him going. He would never stop searching for his sister, but he was slowly giving up on _himself_. He was afraid he was going to lose himself soon and he was afraid that there would be no coming back. 

Butters was silent for a moment, clearly thinking. “I love you,” he said finally. Kenny’s hand trembled, the phone almost slipping from his fingers. “Oh, geez, fella! Are you crying? Please don’t cry, Kenny.” 

Kenny sniffed and shook his head, not that Butters could see him (and, if he _could_ see him, it would be a void action anyway because, _yes_ , Kenny was crying). “You’ve never told me that before,” he whispered. 

“You’ve never needed me to say it before. I’ve been waiting for when you needed it most.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

“Not always, no,” Butters agreed, ever honest. “But I love you even then.” 

“Why?” Kenny’s voice cracked. 

“Well, now, _really_ Kenny. I don’t have to explain how love works to you, do I?”

“I dunno, maybe,” he said. “After all, you seem to have far more insight than I do on the subject.” 

“Tweek?” Kenny made a noise in affirmative. “So have ya been thinking about what I said to you then, fella?” 

“When I’m too mental exhausted to think about what that son of a bitch is doing to my sister.”

Butters made a little noise that Kenny couldn’t decipher. “She’ll be okay,” he said finally. “Karen’s strong, Kenny. She’s a McCormick.”

“Yeah,” Kenny agreed without heart. 

“Don’t give up on her.”

“I won’t.” With his free hand, Kenny wiped furiously at his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was crying but, now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop.

“…Don’t give up on me either.”

“…I won’t.” 

“And, Kenny? Don’t give up on yourself either. You matter too.” A fresh sob escaped Kenny’s lips. He wasn’t sure he _did_ matter but hearing somebody say it still felt so goddamn good. 

Kenny’s phone made a warning noise. Despite having been turned off for so long, it was still almost dead. 

“My phone’s going to die,” he told Butters. 

“Oh, okay,” Butters sounded sad. “Stay safe, Kenny.” 

“Yeah.” He should hang up. He should turn his phone off to save that five percent of battery in case he _really_ needed it. Instead, he just stood there, listening to Butters breathing. His phone beeped again. “Butters?”

“Yeah?”

“I lov-” 

His phone died. 

Kenny stared at it for a long moment then sighed and slipped it into his pocket. 

_I love you, too._

He wondered if Butters had gotten the gist of what he was saying before his phone cut out. He hoped so because, the moment those words had started to slip from his mouth, he’d known they were true. 

Wiping at his eyes again, Kenny balled his fists and took a deep, bracing breath. He could tell Butters in person. He’s see the blond again soon.

The note had said ‘scalding’. The breadcrumb trail was ending. By the end of the night Kenny would be reunited with his sister. 

By the end of the night he would have killed the son of a bitch who took her. 

By morning, they’d be on their way back to South Park. 

By morning, he could tell Butters that he loved him. 

Unclenching his fists and clinging onto those thoughts, Kenny left the warehouse and started towards his final destination, not sparing the pool of blood a second glance. 

_Karen will be fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe, I still haven’t decided on Karen’s fate... Now’s your chance to try and convince me to spare her :P


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I didn’t reply to the majority of comments last chapter. I realised very quickly that it would be tricky to reply to your excellent suggestions without giving anything away. Know that I read and appreciated them all though. They all gave me much food for thought <3 I will be back to replying from this chapter :)
> 
> Now...
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh..._
> 
>  
> 
> Were you expecting to find out Karen’s fate this chapter? _Oops_... sorry  >:)

Tweek stared dumbly at Craig, silence dragging between them as he opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. Finally, “AHH! PRESSURE!” 

“Dude, it’s fine,” Craig mumbled, looking to the floor. “It was a stupid idea.”

“We can’t live together, man! What if something goes wrong? What if the boiler breaks and you go to fix it and it explodes?! Jesus you could die! What if we can’t afford the rent and have to resort to prostitution? That’s way too much pressure, man! Or, what if you turn into a wolf and EAT ME!!!” Tweek was tugging frantically at his hair now with his good arm while Craig stared at him with a small, disbelieving smile across his lips. 

“I’m not going to eat you, Tweek,” Craig said calmly. “I might bite you a little, though.” As Tweek screamed at the idea, Craig realised his flirtatious comment had gone right over the blond’s head. Sighing, he moved closer, trying to pry Tweek’s fingers from his hair. 

As he managed to free one hand, a sleepy Clyde entered the kitchen, followed by Token. “Ugh… What’s going on?” Clyde asked through a wide yawn. 

“Craig’s going to eat me, man!” Tweek squealed, freeing himself from the noirette and hiding behind Clyde’s back. Craig rolled his eyes. 

“Just for the record, I’m _not_ going to eat Tweek.” 

“I know this is Tweek we’re talking about, so I probably shouldn’t ask, but what’s happened?”

Sighing again, Craig ran a hand through his hair and looked uncomfortably to the floor. He felt like he was spending a lot of time looking at the floor right now. It was a nice floor, he supposed. “I, uh, asked him if he might be interested in moving in with me.”

“What?” It was Clyde’s turn to yell now. “No way, dude!”

“It _is_ a little fast,” Token said. 

“Yeah, it was a stupid idea. I’ve already retracted it.”

“You think?” Clyde said sarcastically. “That’s like me asking Lizzie to move in with me.”

“ _Nngh_!! You’re dating Lizzie?!” 

“Well, I wouldn’t call it _dating_ ,” Clyde said. “We had one date.”

“When?” Token asked curiously, arching a dark eyebrow. Craig didn’t have a clue who Lizzie was but he was glad that his friend’s attention had been quickly shifted. 

“Couple of days ago.” Clyde shrugged, as if it didn’t mean anything. “Don’t think we’ll be having another one.”

“Why not?” Token asked. 

“GAHH!! BECAUSE SHE’S A SPY, MAN!” Tweek shouted, still hiding behind Clyde. The brunet reached up to rub his ringing ears. 

“Jesus Christ, Tweek,” he complained, frowning. “Dude, she’s not a spy. Chill. The date didn’t go well because I started crying towards the end.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, well.” Clyde rubbed awkwardly at his cheek. “She know’s all about Kyle, of course. The whole town knows by now. But it was still awkward, y’know. She looked like she couldn’t wait to get away.” 

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Token said. He went about making coffee, pulling some eggs out of the fridge as well. “How was it otherwise?” 

“It was okay. She talked about Tweek a lot.”

“Jesus!” Tweek whimpered. 

“I think she still fancies you, dude,” Clyde said sadly. 

“Gah, no way! She never did, man! She was just spying on me.”

“Why would this chick be spying on him?” Craig asked Clyde, arching an eyebrow. He would have asked the blond, but he was still cowering away from him. Craig was trying not to let it bother him. 

“She’s not. He’s just paranoid.”

“Am not!” Tweek protested meekly. Finally, at the prospect of more coffee that Token was suddenly pouring for him, he unearthed himself from behind Clyde’s back. 

Token took a sip of his own coffee before starting to work on the eggs, cooking up breakfast for everyone. As he minded the sizzling frying plan, he glanced at Tweek. 

“So, are you going to do it?”

“Gahh!! Do what, man?” Tweek squealed, eyes wide in fear of all the possibilities Token was talking about. 

“Move in with Craig.”

“Is he hell!” Clyde snapped before Tweek could even let out a frightened cry at the prospect. In truth, the thought of moving in with Craig was a wonderful one and Tweek wished he could get wrapped up in the fantasy of it. However, so much could go wrong. He’d never lived anywhere but with his parents before. He didn’t know the first thing about living alone. Hell, he didn’t even know the first thing about being in a relationship. His last had ended when he was eleven and had been with the very person he was maybe, possibly, in a new relationship with again. He wasn’t sure where he and Craig stood yet and so the fact that Craig was asking him to move in together terrified Tweek. 

“Clyde,” Token said firmly, “Tweek’s entitled to make his own decision.” 

“Argh! But – ” Having Clyde make the decision for him took away all the pressure. Token seemed to realise this and frowned. 

“You can’t rely on other people to make calls for you, Tweek. You have to stand on your own two feet.” 

“It was a stupid question, I shouldn’t have asked it,” Craig said, sensing how uncomfortable Tweek was. He hadn’t really given that much thought to the words before they’d slipped out of his mouth. Sure, he hadn’t just blurted them but it certainly wasn’t a thought he’d considered for any length of time. In that moment, as he’d looked around Token’s place, he’d just felt the need to ask. After the life he’d lived, living with the man he loved had sounded like a nice idea, one that would finally add a slice of normality to his life. He was regretting it now. Tweek’s reaction had been perfectly _Tweek_ but it had still hurt the noirette none the less. 

“Hm,” Token hummed, turning to dish the eggs up onto plates, “maybe you should ask again after all this mess is resolved? What do you think, Tweek?”

“Y-yeah, man!” Tweek said quickly, feeling guilty as he caught the hurt in Craig’s eyes. “Let’s deal with Cole and Damien first and then – _nngh_ – we can talk about all that.” 

“Sounds good,” Craig said, although there was something slightly off about his tone which revealed that he was still feeling a little uncomfortable about the whole situation. He was avoiding Clyde’s gaze; the brunet hadn’t stopped glaring at him, arms folded, since the conversation had begun. While Craig was glad that Tweek had such protective and caring friends, it stung a little that Clyde, who had once been his closest friend, still seemed to weary of him. 

“Tweek, you heard from Kenny?” Token asked, handing out plates of scrambled eggs to his guests. The thought of Kenny and the fact that he had landed the blond into the mess he was currently in just made Craig feel all the worse. He accepted his breakfast but he suddenly wasn’t hungry enough to stomach eating it. 

“No,” Tweek said, sounding deflated. “His cell goes straight to voicemail so I – _nngh_ – think he must have switched it off. Gahh! I’m so worried! What if he’s dead? What if Karen’s dead?!” 

“I’m sure they’re both fine,” Token said, though even he looked worried. The concern glistened in his tired eyes, unable to be hidden by his usual composure. 

“I should go out and search,” Craig said. “This is all my fault anyway. Kenny only got dragged into this because of me.”

“Kenny pissed off the werewolf all on his own,” Token said. “You’re better off staying here to protect Tweek in case he comes back.” 

“Do you think he will?” Tweek almost spilled his coffee, eyes wide with fear. 

“Why would he?” Clyde asked. “I think he got the hint, right?”

“People like Cole don’t just give up, Clyde,” Token said, sitting down at his breakfast bar and tucking into his meal. “I must admit, though, that I’m more concerned about Damien and his plans for ‘world domination’.”

“Cartman’s full of shit, right?” Clyde asked, frowning. 

“I dunno, man! Damien gave me the creeps!” Tweek blurted, shivering dramatically before taking another sip of coffee. “I wish Kenny were here…” Kenny would know what to do. Kenny knew Damien, he’d be able to talk the guy down. And yet… Kenny was God knows where with his own problems to deal with. 

“We’ll just have to hope Cartman keeps us updated and doesn’t run over to the dark side,” Token said. 

“This _is_ Cartman,” Clyde said with a mouthful of food. He frowned as he finished eating his scrambled egg. Craig pushed his own, untouched, plate over to the brunet and with a small noise of halfhearted gratitude he tucked into the new plate of food. 

“So we’re screwed, right?” Craig asked, raising a dark eyebrow. 

“I’d guess so,” Token said calmly. Tweek let out an involuntary squeak of fright.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t really get any sleep last night so I’m exhausted. Hope this chapters okay, though
> 
> Zzzzzz...

There was something different about this warehouse compared to the others. Perhaps it was because it actually looked used, rather than derelict, abandoned and in a state of disarray, but no, Kenny didn’t think that was it. What really marked this place as different was the utter sense of dread that seemed to radiate from it in pulsing waves, slamming into him and threatening to send him stumbling backwards.

He felt as if his heart actually stopped beating as he approached the place. A cool sweat tickled his back. He was sure it was in his head, sure that he was simply imagining the worst case scenarios but either way, it certainly didn’t fill him with confidence. 

His hands trembled and he wiped sweat from them. Karen was inside; he could feel it. The problem was, he really didn’t know in what state he was going to find her. He wanted to hope for the best, he really did, but the dread was filling him completely, making it hard for him to believe there was any hope at all. 

There didn’t seem to be any movement inside the warehouse, which surprised Kenny. He had been sure there would be guards. Maybe he just had to go up against Cole? The Alpha had already proven himself perfectly capable and more than willing to do his own dirty work after all. Whatever was waiting inside, Kenny could face it. He _had_ to. He would run headfirst into anything for Karen. 

There was a solid looking plank of wood on the floor at his feet, the perfect size for a weapon. Realising it would be stupid to go in unarmed, Kenny picked it up. It had some weight to it, not enough to be inconvenient but enough to do some serious damage should he need to. Resting it against his shoulder, Kenny took a deep breath and stepped into the warehouse. 

Unlike previous locations, he didn’t bother using stealth. He just walked straight in through the front entrance, not caring if a whole platoon of guards was waiting for him. He was angry and determined enough that he expected he could handle a situation like that should he need. 

Inside, however, there was nobody. Only a heavy silence met his ears. Kenny frowned, his blue eyes skimming his surroundings. Was this a trick? A trap? Had he simply come to the wrong location? He was pretty sure it was the right place but he’d expected more. He’d been certain this was where the ‘final’ showdown was going to happen. 

Feeling uncertain, Kenny started to search. He worked methodically, moving through different areas in order but with quick precision, unwilling to risk Karen potentially being seriously injured and dying as he took his sweet time searching. 

The ground floor was completely empty, not a single person or clue in sight. So Kenny made his way upstairs. The entire floor was dark save for one room. The door was closed but light spilled through the edges, a rectangle of yellow light that spilled out slightly over the walls and floor. Kenny felt his breath hitch. His heart raced in his chest. 

He took a slow step closer. 

The doorknob was sticky under his fingers and Kenny frowned, lifting his hands to see red smeared across his skintight gloves. Eye’s wide, he stared at the stain of crimson for what felt like a lifetime. He was suddenly terrified to open the door, terrified about what he might find the other side. 

Open the door he would, though. Karen was counting on him. Except –

-It was locked. 

Kenny frowned, rattling the handle again for good measure. It didn’t budge. Hoisting his plank of wood, Kenny slammed it down, once, twice. The handle flew off and he kicked the door, sending it flying open. 

After walking around in the dark, Kenny’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. When he finally stopped blinking in rapid succession, his heart slammed against his rips and a strangled cry escaped his lips. 

Karen was there, in front of him. She was tied to a chair, bloodied and bruised, her head resting against her chest. She wasn’t moving. 

He dropped his plank of wood. It landed at his feet with a rattling echo. 

“Karen!” Kenny almost tripped over his cape in his haste to get to her. He hesitated before reaching out to touch her, afraid that her skin would be ice cold. Afraid that she was dead. 

Finally, with trembling finger tips, he pulled his gloves off and reached up, brushing his fingers tentatively against his sister’s cheek. She was cold but not _deathly_ cold. Kenny breathed out a thankful sigh of relief.

Karen was alive. _She was alive._

She started to stir as Kenny got to work on untying her. 

“Guardian angel?” she asked weakly, eyelids fluttering. Kenny momentarily panicked, realising that he’d never revealed to his little sister that he was actually Mysterion but, when she smiled weakly, he felt himself relax. “I always knew it was you,” she said quietly. 

“Hush,” he told her, freeing the last of her binds and pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Of course she was hurt, he could see the bruises. But she didn’t appear to be in immediate danger of keeling over. 

“I’m okay,” she said. “Now that you’re here, I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry I took so long Kare-bear.”

“I knew you’d come for me,” she said, shaking her head at his apology. She winced as she pulled away from him and Kenny’s frown tightened. He kept a hold of her, afraid she might vanish if he let go. With his little sister at arms length, Kenny examined her. She had a few cuts and bruises but for the most part she was okay. Cole hadn’t harmed her, not seriously. Why, though, he wasn’t sure. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Karen said quickly, finally seeming to come back to herself, her brown eyes becoming more alert. “Kenny, Tweek’s in trouble!”

“What?” His eyes snapped onto hers, panic filling his chest. 

“That guy. He said he was luring you away because you were the one causing him the most hassle.” Of course! Why hadn’t Kenny considered the fact that this was about luring him away? Karen probably had never been in any immediate danger. She was probably –

Kenny’s thought process cut off as he noticed something that turned his blood cold. 

“Karen,” he said seriously. “Is that a bite mark?” 

“Oh…” Karen looked down at her arm where a nasty red, crescent shaped cut stood out against her pale skin. “Yeah, it was weird. He bit me.”

“Fuck!” Kenny punched the wall. He wasn’t sure what that meant. It was clearly a bite made by human teeth; could it still turn her? Cartman had been feverish and incoherent after he’d been turned but Karen didn’t seem to be any of those things. In human form Cole couldn’t turn people, right? But then… Why had he bothered to bite her at all? 

“Kenny?” Karen asked, fear creeping into her tone. “It’s just a little cut… It’s fine…”

Kenny moved back to his sister in a fluid movement, pressing his hand against her forehead. It was a little warm. He lowered his hands, clenching them into fists. “Do you feel okay?” he demanded. “You don’t feel sick?”

“Not really,” she said. “Just sore. And hungry.”

“Okay, good. Good,” Kenny mumbled. She was probably fine, right? It was probably just some twisted message directed at Kenny. A ‘look how easy it could have been for me to turn her’ kind of message. That sicko! “I need to make a phone call, Kare. Then I’m going to get you to Hells Pass.”

“The hospital? No! Kenny, I just need to go home. Please?” Kenny’s gaze softened at the desperation in his sister’s tone. He walked over to her and pulled her into another quick hug.

“Okay,” he promised. “I’ll take you home. Mom’ll be able to clean you up just fine. Just give me a couple of minutes, okay?”

He smiled fondly at his sister and then pulled his cell out of his pocket, scowling as he remembered that it had died. “Fuck!” he growled again, almost throwing the hunk of junk at the wall. It couldn’t have worked out better if Cole had planned it. Kenny was stuck in Denver with no way to contact anyone and the fucking werewolf was on his way to South Park, ready to finally deal with Tweek. No wonder there was nobody laying in wait to attack him. There didn’t need to be. All Cole had wanted was Kenny safely out of the way while he did what he’d wanted to do. With Kenny gone, his biggest threat was Craig and Kenny expected the alpha had ways to deal with _him._

If it wasn’t for Karen he’d just kill himself and insist that Satan send him back to the surface straight away. He’d do whatever the devil wanted him to do, just as long as he could get back in time to save Tweek. Unfortunately, though, that wasn’t an option. There was absolutely no way he was going to leave his sister in Denver alone after what she’d just been through. 

“Do you know any of your friends numbers?” Karen asked softly.

“Just Butters. Why?” 

Karen didn’t answer out loud. She just nodded to a desk in the far corner. Relief washed over him like he was standing underneath a waterfall. There, on the desk, was a landline. Rushing to it, Kenny prayed to god that it worked. 

There was no sweeter sound than the dial tone that met his ear. Kenny dialled quickly, hoping beyond hope that Butters would answer. 

The phone rang once, twice, three times –

Butters answered on the fourth ring. “H-Hello?”

“Butters!”

“Kenny?! How – ”

“Butters, we don’t have time! I need you to get a message to Craig. Cole’s after Tweek! He’s in danger, Butters. They can’t let him go anywhere alone. They need to hide him up and keep him safe, you understand?”

“Jesus,” Butters breathed. “Okay. Yes, I’ll phone Craig right now. Gosh…”

“And Butters?” Kenny said, softening his tone just a little. “Karen is safe. I’m bringing her home.” He hung up before the other man could respond. 

They had to get back quickly. There was no way Kenny wasn’t going to be there for Tweek when he needed him the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this, Slushie, is why I couldn’t reply to _your_ comment. It was like you read my mind what with the whole red herring thing, dude! I’d already had that planned since she was kidnapped haha XD 
> 
> And I decided to go a slightly different route with the bite in the end (which most of you were rooting for) But as for whether it will affect Karen in any way... I guess y’all just have to wait and see ;P


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad y’all enjoyed the previous chapter <3 
> 
> Heads up, this one has blood and gore.

After they finished their breakfast and morbid conversation, Clyde walked home with Tweek. Craig had wanted to join them but Token had asked to speak to him privately. While Tweek couldn’t possibly know what it was about, his paranoid brain was jumping to all sorts of conclusions. By the time they approached his house, Tweek had convinced himself that Token was telling Craig to leave town and never come back. He _knew_ it was ridiculous but that didn’t stop him from wanting to run all the way back to Token’s and defend the noirette. 

“Dude, can I use your bathroom?” Clyde asked as they stopped by his front door. Tweek drew his eyebrows together in a frown, unable to tell whether it was a genuine request or just an excuse to come inside and keep an eye on him. Either way, he nodded suspiciously and allowed the brunet indoors. When Clyde bolted straight for the stairs, however, Tweek figured it hadn’t been a ploy after all; Clyde had simply over indulged during breakfast. 

Throwing off his jacket, he noticed with a wave of uncertainty that the house was dark. It was mid morning, the house shouldn’t be dark. Glancing around, he wondered why his parents hadn’t opened the curtains before they’d left for work. His mom was usually so meticulous with preparing the house before she left, as if she expected to bring unexpected guests home with her each time she returned. She, of course, never did but she continued to tidy each morning regardless. 

As Tweek took a step further into the room he was immediately met with a strange, metallic smell. It lingered heavily in the air and was definitely not the aroma of cooking or baking or even coffee that would usually please his senses if there was anything to smell at all. 

Tweek didn’t like it. Something felt _wrong._

With cautiously small steps, Tweek moved further into the room, eyes adjusting to the gloom. His heart was thudding frantically against his rib cage, desperate to break free and flee this place and the horrible uncertainty and gloom that clung to it like an early morning fog.

His green of his eye’s darted around his head so fast that the colour blurred, taking in everything they saw but wholly unwilling to believe it. 

The walls… The floors… Everywhere, _everything._ It was all covered in blood. 

A little part of him thought that maybe, _maybe_ it was all in his head. He was seeing things. Imagining it. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes Tweek saw things that weren’t real. Sometimes he freaked out over nothing. Sometimes he believed things that weren’t true… 

Tweek ripped open the curtains, letting daylight stream into the room. 

The blood didn’t vanish. 

There was so much. _Too much._ Something terrible had happened. Something awful. Something – 

Tweek finally noticed the blood trail (if trail could be used accurately. Trail seemed to connote a thin scattering but this was more like a thick, sloppy _stream_ , as if a heavy, bleeding body had been awkwardly dragged.) leading into the kitchen. He followed it as if in a trance, barely aware that he was doing so. He felt like he was floating, almost detached from his body, watching himself as he entered the kitchen. 

The blood splatter was just as bad in this room. It was almost artistic, somehow managing to coat the cupboards and even spray the ceiling. It had to be intentional, this much blood couldn’t have been an accident. 

At the table, slouched across it as though sleeping in a pool of blood, were his parents. 

Tweek let out a hysterical scream. He ran to them but he could tell they were dead. Their skin was bloodless and grey, gashed creatively, the wounds deep and jagged and all over. His trembling hands touched their cold flesh anyway, coming away coated with congealing blood. They wound into his hair, staining it, tugging it, ripping until a large chuck came away in his hands. 

Tweek screamed again. 

This wasn’t right, this wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be. _No, no, no, no,_ **NO!**

Slamming his head into the wall, Tweek tried to knock away the vision. It couldn’t be real. It had to be some kind of crazy delusion. His parents were at work. His house looked normal. Everything was fine. 

He slammed his head again, hard enough to make him dizzy, hard enough to make the room grow dark. He stood, blinking in rapid succession as it came back and, when it did, the blood was still there. His parents were still dead.

“No, no, no, no!!!” He chanted like a mantra, his wide eyes staring blankly at the crime scene from Hell he was trapped in. 

“Oh, Tweek,” a voice said. Tweek heard it but didn’t register it straight away. It took him a full minute to blink and slowly turn.

“I knew it,” he whispered when his eyes caught sight of the person standing in the doorway. And he _had_ , though not quite to the full extent. And yet, _of course_ , nobody had believed him. 

Standing in the doorway, covered head to toe in blood like a real life Carrie, was Lizzie. The girl everyone had insisted was not a threat. The girl he’d been suspicious of but had allowed people to tell him it was all in his head.

The girl that had murdered his parents. 

“Should have trusted your gut, Tweekers,” she said, flashing him a brightly sadistic smile. “Then again, your gut was telling you I worked for a rival coffee company, right? Bet ya couldn’t have seen _this_ coming.”

She was crazy. The way she spoke, the way her eyes glistened, the way she smiled through the blood that dripped down her face. Hell, she was _definitely_ crazy. 

“W-why are you – GAH! – Why are you doing this?!” What had he ever done to her? Sure, he’d been rude and suspicious but not enough to merit _this_. This was insane! She had killed his parents and decorated their house with their blood. She was probably about to kill him, too!

“Oh, you’re too adorable,” she said, cocking her head to the side. She was so much shorter than him; how had a girl her size overpowered his father? She couldn’t be human – 

“You’re with Cole!” he blurted out, knowing it was true even before she laughed in delight. 

“Cole knew about you long before Craig had his little slip up. He sent me to check things out, see whether you would be a threat.”

“He really liked Craig that much?” Tweek asked. He knew he should be running, or searching for weapons, or just something, _anything_ , but he was rooted to the spot. His legs had forgotten how to move. He was only just capable of conversation right now, so that’s what he did, his mouth blurting out stupid questions to try and buy some time for his legs to remember how to function. 

“Tweek. It’s not a question of like or _‘love’_ or any of that bull crap. It’s a question of what _belongs_ to him and, my dear, Craig belongs to him.” 

“ _Rrrrr!_ That’s bullshit.” He shivered violently at the thought of Craig _belonging_ to anyone, least of all that asshole. 

Lizzie took a slow step closer and Tweek’s legs finally remembered how to move. He stumbled backwards, knocking into the chair his dead mother sat in and almost sending her sprawling to the ground. Tweek squealed out loudly, jumping away from her. 

A thought occurred to him then. “Where’s Clyde?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Lizzie waved him off causally. “I just knocked him out for now.” Tweek wasn’t sure he could trust her word but she was blocking his path to his friend and he still hadn’t kickstarted his brain enough to think to grab a weapon of some sorts. “He’s a bit annoying, really, isn’t he?” Lizzie said conversationally. “Did he tell you he cried on our date.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Tweek practically screamed. 

She really was small, he thought. He could take her, easily. Except… She had managed to take out his parents and knock out Clyde and, if she was with Cole then that probably meant she was a werewolf. Damn it, she probably had super strength and everything! Tweek needed a weapon, he needed –

-He was in a kitchen! There was no better place in the house for weapons than the room they were already in. What an idiot he was, standing around making conversation when he could have found a big ass knife to plunge into the bitches heart. 

Lizzie seemed to guess his move before he even managed a step. She shook her head, grinning maniacally. “Uh, uh, uh,” she tutted, “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you.”

“But you’re – _nngh_ – not me,” Tweek said and he lunched for the nearest drawer where he knew his mom kept the knives. Lizzie laughed before he could even open it and, after he did, Tweek realised why. It was empty. 

“Looking for this?” She hadn’t been holding it before, but somewhere along the line, Lizzie had acquired a large, deadly looking knife that was coated in blood. She waved it teasingly. “I also took all the smaller ones, y’know… Just in case. This is my favourite, though. This is what I used to carve up your parents.”

Tweek cried out, his traitorous gaze falling back to his mangled parents. He’d been trying so hared not to acknowledge them there. They really were dead, though. There was no escaping that fact. And Tweek was surely soon to follow; he was weaponless, still injured from previous attacks, his path blocked and his opponent probably a werewolf. 

Still, he had to try. He couldn’t go down without a fight. What would Craig think of him if he didn’t even try? 

Tweek ran at the blood coated girl. He didn’t know if he was trying to attack her or get past her but supposed it didn’t matter either way. He knew both were futile. 

She didn’t even humour him. Lizzie grabbed Tweek’s collar and threw him painfully to the ground, where he felt the wind leave him. He cried out from the pain of it. She was _definitely_ stronger than she looked. 

Perhaps, if Tweek wasn’t feeling so lost, so broken, maybe he would have struggled more. As it stood, though, he was already injured and, although he had an… _odd_ relationship with his parents he would never, _ever_ have wished them dead. Seeing them like that, seeing their blood coating everything, including their murderer… Tweek just didn’t have any fight left in him. 

“Cole’s on his way back from dealing with that pest you call a friend. He should join us soon,” Lizzie said causally as she kept him pinned down. Tweek felt his heart sink further. What did she mean by ‘dealing with’? He couldn’t bear it if Kenny was dead too. He couldn’t handle losing another loved one. 

“Grrr… I swear,” he grunted underneath her weight. “If I make it out of this alive, I _will_ kill you and Cole.” 

“ _If_? Oh, Tweek, I don’t plan to _kill_ you. No. Cole wanted too, of course, but I talked him out of it. I said it would hurt Craig far more if we _turned_ you. So, really, you owe me your life, you know.”

Tweek felt his blood turn cold. She was going to turn him? He was going to become like Cartman had, when he’d ripped Kyle to shreds? “Y-you can’t,” he said. “The full moon has – _nngh_ – passed!”

“There are other ways,” Lizzie said. “I mean, I could just bite you right here and now, but that only offers around a forty percent successful turn. So, instead…” She pulled a syringe out of her pocket. It was filled with a silver liquid. It looked like bottled moonlight. “It’s sort of like werewolf venom, I guess. It’s the stuff that changed your DNA, makes you a monster.” 

_The stuff that makes you a monster…_

Finally, Tweek started to struggle. He squirmed and thrashed under her grip, managing to grab a strand of her long blonde hair which he yanked, making her scream. If there was one thing Tweek was good at, it was yanking hair. His flailing hand struck her face before she managed to restrain him again. Blood dripped onto his face. Her blood, he assumed, as the stuff that coated her was too dry now to drip. When she spoke, her voice was a little nasally. He must have broken her nose. _Good._

“I was going to wait for Cole to turn up, but, you know what, just for that – ”

She plunged the needle into his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, perhaps you recall all the way back to chapter 1 where I said Lizzie wouldn’t be important? Yeah, I changed my mind a while back. Surprise! 
> 
> Also, a few of you have been waiting for me to turn Tweek I think, so... YOU’RE WELCOME!!! Mwahaha!
> 
> Thinking the next chapter might be a flashback to add some light onto Craig and Cole. I’ve been wanting to do that and haven’t fitted it in but now seems as good as any..


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ, you guys have no idea how much of a hassle this chapter was. I’ve been trying to write it for _days_! I had this flashback chapter for Cole and Craig finally written and was going to post it earlier today but decided to read it one more time and **my god was it bad**
> 
> This is the result of a frantic two hour writing session this afternoon. It’s still sloppy but, believe me, it’s better than what you were going to get. So that’s something, right? And I don’t want to deprive you of an update any longer, so here you go...

Some people are born into darkness, others have it thrust upon them. Cole Stidolph was the former. There was a darkness in him from the moment he was born. A darkness that developed quickly, consuming him entirely until even his own mother learned to fear him. 

He inherited the darkness from his father. That man was a monster, even before he was bitten by a werewolf and cursed to a life chained by the moon. Only a monster could condemn his entire family to live the same terrifying existence as himself, after all. 

Being a werewolf wasn’t so bad, however. At least not for Cole. His sister and mother faired less well; they were weak and the weak deserved what they got. His sister deserved to be shot by a mortal when she ran havoc during a full moon. His mother –

-His mother probably hadn’t deserved to waste away, refusing to eat, refusing to run free under the light of the moon. In the end, though, that was how she went. She was little more than a skeleton the last time Cole saw her breathing. Skin and bones and curled up in a dark corner, her nails dirty with congealed blood, gouges down her arms and legs from the itch she’d never been able to rid herself of. 

Cole didn’t really think about his mother these days. The past was best dead and buried, much like she was. 

These days his mind was confused with several other irritating people. They wormed their way deep down into his subconscious and wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. 

Firstly, there was Craig Tucker. He was the reason for all of this in the first place. Craig Tucker had been his first real friend. That was saying a lot seeing as Cole had been fifteen when they’d met. Before Craig, anyone in his life had simply been there because their presence benefited him in some way. He used people, he didn’t _care_ about them. Craig had changed that. The stoic little asshole had locked his blue eyes onto Cole’s brown pair and had flipped him off. He’d been _twelve_. Cole had liked him instantly. 

Nowadays, he was liking Craig Tucker a whole lot less. Mostly because of, number two: Tweek Tweak. _Tweek motherfucking Tweak._ The bane of Cole’s existence. Seriously, if the blond spaz hadn’t existed then Craig wouldn’t have felt the need to be such an asshole. So yeah, Tweek needed to go. 

Thirdly, there was the looming threat of Damien, the son of Satan himself. Cole felt certain that the red-eyed noirette wasn’t done with him yet. Maybe that was just paranoia, though. 

Finally – and worst of the fucking lot – was Kenny McCormick. God. Cole hadn’t thought he was capable of hating anyone. Sure, he didn’t _like_ anybody (with the sole exception of Craig… _sometimes_ ) but hate connoted feeling strongly enough about another person to feel that passion. Generally speaking, Cole just didn’t give a damn about people one way or t’other. He liked it that way. There was much less headache involved. With Kenny McCormick, there was so much headache it was unbearable. It pounded away relentlessly, inching him closer to madness. It certainly didn’t help that Cole kept killing him and the bastard kept coming back. 

He probably should have killed the McCormick girl while he had the chance. _That_ would have held the immortal up a bit longer, probably. (It would have also added fuel to his anger, of course, but Cole could have dealt with that later…) What were the chances that the girl had the same knack for returning as her brother? In the end though, _damnit_ , he didn’t trust Lizzie not to screw things up. He’d sent her to keep an eye on things months ago, well before Craig was even aware that Cole knew of Tweek’s existence and, for the most part, she’d done an okay job. She’d gotten him the information he’d needed. She’d told him that Tweek Tweak was a potential threat. And then, _of course_ , she’d grown fond of the spaz. She’d asked that they turned him rather than kill him. Cole had humoured her but he’d never actually wanted to…

Goddamnit! He punched the wall. Bloody flakes of plaster fluttered to the ground. What was a bit more mess anyway? Lizzie had certainly had her fun in here. And then some.

Tweek Tweak was quivering on the ground, curled up on himself, howling bloody murder as the werewolf curse coursed through his veins, changing his DNA. 

Lizzie stood over the boy, a manic smile across her proud face. Cole reminded himself to kill her later. She’d been part of his Pack for years, well before he’d become the Alpha even, but for this… For this she deserved to die. 

He could deal with that later, though. Right now – 

“We need to leave,” he said. That caught her attention. She looked up, horrified. 

“But – ”

“Do you really not expect Craig to burst through the door at any minute? Or McCormick?”

“I thought you dealt with McCormick?”

“Only temporarily. He won’t be far behind me, though.” She didn’t know about McCormick being immortal. It was the only thing that stopped him from ripping her face off at the look she sent his way. It was a close call, though. 

Like hell did Cole want to be around when Craig showed up and discovered this scene. His boyfriend withering on the floor, about to turn into the same monster Craig had hated himself for being for years, and his boyfriend’s parents dead at their fucking dining room table. There was also another body in the house, but Cole thought that one might still be breathing – just. 

Craig was going to go _mental_. The noirette didn’t care about a lot but what he did care about, he cared for deeply. At one point, it had been Cole that Craig cared for. One, fleeting moment. Then Cole had killed his father, stolen the position of Alpha and taken charge of the Pack and everything had changed. Craig had stayed with him but things become different. His kisses became laced with anger. His touches threatened to break. Their fights became violent and regular until finally, _finally_ , Craig snapped. 

And all this shit had happened. 

Cole had thought it was worth it at the time. Now he was less sure. It was all just a giant headache. It pissed him off. He was starting to doubt whether Craig was really worth all this shit. But one thing Cole didn’t do was give up. Giving up was a sign of weakness and Cole would never be weak, not again, not like he was when his father towered over him with glowing golden eyes and changed his life forever. 

Being a werewolf wasn’t a curse but it hadn’t been a choice either. 

“Stay if you want,” Cole said blandly, turning on his heel. When he’d drawn McCormick out of town, he hadn’t expected it to be for _this_. This was a mess. This was making him angry. 

Of course, he could have still killed the spaz. It wasn’t like he was in any position to fight back right now but something stopped him. It wouldn’t feel like a _win_ this way. It’d be like killing someone in a coma and the blond wouldn’t even know it was Cole who killed him. Craig would know, and that was what mattered but _still_. Cole had standards. 

He wasn’t sure whether Lizzie would follow him out but she did. It took everything he had not to string her up outside the house with a big fucking sign that announced to Craig that she was the one responsible. It’d serve her right. What the fuck kind of use was she if she couldn’t follow simple orders? He wasn’t sure what he was saving her death for but he suspected he would know it when he saw it. 

For now the important thing was to get away before the boy who made him _feel_ showed up. Because even though killing Tweek Tweak had been his plan all along, now that the boy was, well, not dead but – in Craig’s eyes at least – hardly better off, suddenly Cole wasn’t sure he wanted to see how the noirette reacted to it all. Suddenly he was wondering whether he should have just let Craig go. After all, sometimes cutting your losses is the best thing you can do.

Unfortunately, Cole Stidolph was a sore loser.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter I’m less than happy with but I’ve had a lot on my mind recently and my motivation has suffered because of it. Hopefully things’ll improve. Anyway, it’s from Butters POV and I’m not sure I’ve done that yet... (I honestly can’t remember haha) so yeah...

When Butters couldn’t tell get a hold of Clyde, he rang Token. The phone chimed away in his ear for four rings before the call was answered. 

“Butters, I’m a bit busy – ”

The blond didn’t give him a chance to finish. “Tweek’s in trouble!” 

“-What?!” There was a sharpness to his tone that Butters wasn’t used to. It almost made him shiver. 

“Kenny got in touch. He said somethin’ about Cole being’ after Tweek. Said not to let him go anywhere alone…” There was a loud ‘Fuck’ and then a drawn out silence. “…Fella?” 

“Tweek left with Clyde about half an hour ago,” Token said quickly. “They were going back to his. Butters, listen. Could you get Cartman and meet us there?” 

“Oh, uh, _oh boy._ Shouldn’t we call the police or somethin’?” Sure, he’d spent a decent chunk of his childhood with the alter ego of Professor Chaos but that didn’t mean Butters really had the nerve for the kind of life he and his friends seemed to have found themselves suddenly thrown into. It was one thing wrecking a little havoc but another entirely to be tossed into a world of monsters and death. 

Butters wanted to be brave, he really did, but people had _died. Kyle_ had died. It was all a little too much, really. 

“You think the South Park police will do shit?!” it was Craig who spoke this time, his tone sharp enough to cut through the blond, making him wince. There was movement on the other end of the line, sounds of Craig and Token pulling on shoes and gathering keys. Butters hoped he’d managed to pass on the message before it was too late. 

“Good point,” he agreed, doing his best not to sigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help Tweek. _Of course_ he didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, it was just that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to _himself_ either. That was fair enough, wasn’t it? His friend’s were right, though. Relying on the South Park police would definitely end up with Tweek dead. “I’ll head to Eric’s now.”

With the phone hung up, Butters rushed to pull on his own shoes. 

“And just where do you think you’re going, mister?” His dad was suddenly there, arms crossed, glaring at him. His parents were still real sore at him for when he told them to fuck off after Kyle died. It didn’t matter to them that he’d just seen his friend’s mangled remains. They just cared about the disrespect he’d shown them. “You’re grounded, remember?”

“I’m nineteen,” he said bravely, continuing to shove his feet into his shoes. 

“And you still live under my roof,” his dad said. “That means you play by my rules.” 

“I don’t have time for this.” Butters stood up, giving his father a stern look, as if he were the parent and his dad was the disobedient child. It was a stupid move that was bound to land him in a whole world of trouble but Butters couldn’t really worry about that right now. With his father yelling at him to come back, he left the house and hurried over to Eric’s, letting himself in when he arrived.

“Goddamnit, Butters,” Cartman snapped from his position on the sofa. “Learn to knock, asshole.”

“Gee, I’m sorry Eric but – Actually, you know what?! I’m not sorry at all, fella. We’ve got bigger problems than knockin’ on each other’s doors right now, ya hear? Now, Tweek’s in trouble an’ you are comin’ with me to make sure he’s okay. So come on.” Butters felt quite proud of himself for his outburst until Eric didn’t move and just glared at him from the sofa. Feeling disheartened, he tried a different approach. “Don’t cha wanna get revenge on the bastard that turned you?”

That seemed to do the trick. Eric stood up, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, that son of a bitch is going _down_.” 

“Now that’s more like it!” Butters cheered, following the larger man out of the house. 

It didn’t take them long to reach Tweek’s house but, when they did, Eric froze and refused to move any closer, the colour drained from his face. Butters himself couldn’t see anything wrong from where they stood, but Eric’s tense shoulders and pale cheeks were worrying him something wicked. It took a lot to scare Eric Cartman and, what with his new werewolf abilities, Butters wasn’t inclined to doubt the larger man when he acted as if something were terribly wrong. 

Butters clung to his arm. “What is it?” he asked quietly, blue eyes never leaving the house. The more he stared at it, the creepier the place seemed to appear despite there being nothing outwardly strange about the house. It seemed too quiet, though, as if absorbing the noise around it. It made Butters shiver. 

Then, as if the house had taken his thought of too quiet as a challenge, an ear piercing scream came from inside. It jolted life back into Eric, who yanked his arm free from Butters and ran towards the front door. Butters hesitated and, as he went to follow, he spied Craig and Token running his way, having only just managed to make it from Token’s apartment. 

“Eric just went in,” he said as Token stopped by him. Craig simply steamrolled inside with no regards to his own safety. “We heard a scream…” Butters said nervously. Token bit his lip, clearly just as uncertain about entering the house as he was, before nodding. Butters didn’t know if the nod was for his benefit or Token’s own, but either way, Token then started towards the house and Butters felt as if he had no choice but to follow. 

Inside was a bloodbath. It was honestly as if somebody had filled several buckets with the stuff and purposefully splashed it around, wanting to coat as much of the house as possible. It gave off a strong metallic smell that turned Butters stomach. He swallowed down his bile, edging hesitantly into the house with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart. 

The source of the scream was quickly identified as Tweek. Butters followed his squeals into the kitchen and this time he wasn’t fast enough to catch the bile that forced its way up his throat. 

Tweek’s parents sat at their dining table, slashed almost beyond recognition.

Butters emptied his stomach against a bloodstained wall, too horrified to feel guilty about not making it to the sink. Wiping a trembling hand across his mouth, he turned to spy Tweek flailing on the floor with Craig, Eric and Token surrounding him, all devoid of colour.

“Has he been – ” Butters couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. It was pretty obvious that the blond was going through the same thing Eric had not that long before. Butters felt his heart break for him. 

At least, a small consolation was the fact that Tweek would have a couple of weeks to adjust to the idea before he had his first turn. Eric hadn’t been so lucky. 

Butters didn’t really understand how Tweek had been turned when the full moon had only passed a week ago; surely there needed to be an actual werewolf and biting involved? Either way, he didn’t think now was the best time to ask. Eric’s eyes were haunted, Token’s face looked unreadable and Craig, as he gripped Tweek’s hands tightly, looked ready to murder someone. 

“Hey… um, where’s Clyde?” Butters realised he’d expected the brunet to be here somewhere. Maybe, hopefully, he’d just dropped Tweek off and gone home –

“Clyde?” Token’s eyes widened in horror and realisation and he broke free from the gathering around Tweek. 

“I’m sure he’s fine, fella,” Butters voice wobbled uncertainty. “Let’s search, shall we? Just in case he’s here still?” 

While Butters was terrified about what they might find, Token looked almost childlike in fear and he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but supportive right now. If that meant he had to search the house to potentially discover another dead friend then, _oh boy…_ that’s what he’d do… 

Fortunately it didn’t take them long to find Clyde. He was lying facedown in the carpet on the landing upstairs. Butters felt his heart stop. The world seemed to slow down. To his eyes, it was like Token ran to his fallen friend in slow motion. 

There was a long silence… 

“He’s breathing,” Token finally said in a rush of relief. Butters felt air return to his lungs. “Just knocked out… Thank God…” Taking a tentative step closer to the pair, Butters exhaled loudly in relief. Token looked up to flash him a weak smile and he noticed the man’s brown eyes were watery. 

“You were really scared, huh?” he asked Token softly. 

“Can you blame me?”

“Not at all, fella,” Butters said. He’d been terrified himself. Hell, he was _still_ terrified. 

Tweek let out another scream from downstairs, reminding them that this nightmare wasn’t over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it might be a pretty terrible update but it could have been worse. It could have been terrible **and** I could have killed Clyde. So that’s something :)


	35. Chapter 35

Tweek woke with a start, his senses in overload. His forehead was hot, his vision glaringly sharp, full technicolour dazzling his irises. Somewhere downstairs, somebody was brewing coffee and yet, to his twitching nostrils, it smelled as if the mug was shoved right under his nose. As he sat upright in bed, trying to control his breathing and calm his erratic heartbeat, he realised that it was Craig making coffee. He could tell from the sounds of his easy movements that, realistically, Tweek shouldn’t have been able to hear at all. 

It took a full minute of confusion for the memories to come back to him, slapping him in the face with impact that nearly knocked him back down again. His parents: dead. Lizzie: just the bitch he’d known her to be. Himself… He shivered violently as he remembered the needle plunging into his arm. He recalled the feeling of the liquid entering his bloodstream, how it had burned and yet felt ice cold as it overwhelmed him. As it changed him… 

His fingers automatically wormed into his hair, his arm still in its cast not protesting the movement as he was used to, where he tugged at the wild strands hard enough to make his eyes water. He let out a squeal and a moment later he heard footsteps on the stairs. Each creaky floorboard made him jump.

“Tweek?” The blond didn’t turn his head as Craig entered the room. He kept his fingers twisted into his wild mane, grounding himself to the Earth. “Hey,” the noirette said softly. There was an echoing thud that made Tweek jump again as Craig placed the mug he was carrying down on the side table, and then warm hands were touching his own, gently prying them away from his head. “You’re okay. I know the heightened senses takes a while to get used to, dude, but you’ll be okay.”

Tweek turned to face Craig blankly. He could see the concern on the noirette’s face but he didn’t really register it. 

He was a werewolf. It was funny how he knew it was true even without having been aware of anything for the past however long. He felt different. He felt… _better._ Almost like he could do anything. 

It terrified him. 

“Where am I?” His vision was too sharp, it was painful to see. He hadn’t dared clock his surroundings. 

“In Clyde’s room.” Now that Craig mentioned it, there was a distinct _Clyde_ smell about the place underneath the thick aroma of coffee that teased his senses, remind him him that it had been _hours_ since he had last had any caffeine. 

As if realising what Tweek was after, Craig picked up the mug and pressed it into his jittering hands. As the hot liquid burned his throat, Tweek felt his nerves calm somewhat. 

So he was a werewolf now, huh? That was an easier fact to dwell on than the death of his parents. He’d had a funny sort of relationship with them but he’d loved them in his own way and he’d certainly never wished them gone, especially in the cruel way they were taken-

-No! He didn’t want to think about them. Not right now. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” Craig asked softly, his voice cracking a little. 

“ _Nngh_ ,” Tweek shivered, “It was Lizzie.”

“Clyde said she was the one who knocked him out. Did she… Was she…?” Craig didn’t seem able to finish his sentence. There was a storm brewing in his eyes, his gaze dark. 

“Yes.”

“I thought… Cole…”

“I didn’t see him,” Tweek said. He had distant memories of hearing the Alpha’s voice but he couldn’t be sure they were real memories or just dreams that had leaked into reality, merging and muddling what had happened and what hadn’t. Everything from after the syringe being plunged into his arm was a blur. All he remembered for certain was agonising pain. 

“When you guys mentioned a Lizzie before, I didn’t connect the dots,” Craig agonised. “It’s my fault. I should have realised. I hadn’t seen her for a while even before I left the Pack but – ”

“Craig, it wasn’t your fault,” Tweek said. “Even I could never have guessed. _Nngh!_ I just thought she was trying to steal our secret recipe for a rival coffee shop.” Tweek laughed humourlessly, shivering a little as he did. He took another sip of coffee. 

“I should have watched over you better! I never should have let you leave without me.”

“Gah!!” With the mug in one hand and the cast that still restricted his movements a little in the hands of Craig, Tweek couldn’t reach for his hair. Instant he gnawed on his bottom lip until he tasted blood, taking his time to cool off a little before speaking. “It wasn’t your fault, man!” He wanted to say more, wanted to somehow drum it into the noirette that he wasn’t responsible for him but he doubted anything he could say would convince Craig. In the noirette’s eyes, he’d screwed up. He probably felt as bad as if _he’d_ been the one to turn Tweek. 

“And now you’re cursed…” Craig finished sadly, as if Tweek hadn’t spoken at all. 

Tweek wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole werewolf thing. On the one hand it was _definitely_ way too much pressure! However, on the other, it kinda brought him closer to Craig in a twisted way. They no longer had that divide between them, the one thing that Tweek thought might be holding Craig back a little. 

It was certainly a situation he’d need time to process, but it didn’t have to be all bad. He was still alive, he was healthy (in fact, he felt better than he ever had!) and he was with Craig. 

Just as Tweek was trying to process and accept his situation, his brain decided to throw his parents back into the mix. What kind of person was he for looking on the bright side when they never could again? Lizzie had killed them. _Viciously._ And he was, _what_? Pretending that it hadn’t happened? Not even giving them a few moments of his time to grieve? Jesus, he was a terrible person! The absolute worst! 

He thrust his empty mug at Craig and fell back into the bed, burying his face into the blankets. He could feel Craig’s presence, lingering awkwardly, wanting to reach out but unsure if it would be for the best. Tweek _wanted_ him to reach out, but he didn’t deserve Craig. He deserved to be alone. He deserved to be a werewolf and miserable and alone and-

“Dude, we can get through this together. I’m not leaving you again, I promise.”

Tweek sniffed and peeked out from under the covers. There had been so much pain in Craig’s tone that he couldn’t help but respond to his words. 

“ _Nngh_ … It’s not the wolf thing, man. Jesus Christ, that’s bad too! But… I’m being selfish and thinking about me… About us and my parents are dead, man! Lizzie killed them and I’ll never see them again and all I can think about is how much closer we are now. Jesus! I’m the worst.” He raised a hand to his hair, tugging at the wild strands, his eyes twitching. 

“Tweek,” Craig said gently. “You’re not a bad person. Grief presents itself in all sorts of ways. Just because you’re not crying it doesn’t mean you’re not sad, right?”

“I guess, man,” Tweek sniffed. He wasn’t all that convinced but, at the very least, Craig’s words made him stop furiously hating himself. He could do that later. When he was alone. He let his eyes wander around Clyde’s bedroom and a thought occurred to him, one that made him feel terrible for not thinking of earlier. “Is Clyde alright?!”

“He’s fine,” Craig assured him. “Just a little bump on the head.”

“Thank God, man!” Lizzie had told him she hadn’t killed the brunet but Tweek wasn’t really sure he could take anything that girl said at her word. “So, where is he?”

“Uh…” Craig looked down at the floor and a rush of jumbled, worried thoughts slammed into Tweek all at once. What if he wasn’t as fine as Craig had just claimed? What if the government had taken him away because of all this werewolf stuff? Oh God… Would that mean that Clyde was a werewolf too? Maybe Lizzie turned him and – “He’s answering some questions at the Police Station.”

“What? Oh Jesus Christ, man! Why do they want him?!”

“They don’t suspect him or anything,” Craig said quickly. “But, well, he’s kinda a witness to your parent’s, uh…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need too. Tweek felt his heart sink again. 

“He didn’t see anything, man! He was knocked out before he even realised anything was amiss.”

“I know, but they still wanna talk to him. Question him about Lizzie, y’know? He went on a date with the girl after all. Don’t worry, Token’s at the station with him.”

Tweek’s eyes widened as another thought occurred to him, his hands returning to his hair. “Oh God, they’re gonna want to talk to me too, aren’t they?!”

“Afraid so dude, but… Uh… Well, because we couldn’t let them see you because of obvious reasons, we had to lie to them.”

“Oh God, PRESSURE!” They had lied to the police? What if they got caught? What if they went to prison? What if they were executed!? The police wouldn’t do that, would they? But this was South Park and messed up things happened here all the time! 

“Just a little lie,” Craig said calmly, his voice as monotonous as ever. “We just told them you were out of town with Kenny. It does mean they don’t know that you know about your parents though… You can’t tell them that you found them.”

Well, that wasn’t so tricky. Tweek didn’t want to talk about what he had seen even to Craig, so to be able to avoid that conversation with the South Park Police who, to be honest, terrified him was quite a relief really.

Another thought materialised in his head then. His mind really was such a disarray of thoughts that it was often hard to keep up. “Wait? So have you heard from Kenny, man?!”

“Yeah, he’s downstairs sleeping.”

“He is?!” Tweek squealed. “Is he okay? Is Karen okay?!”

“Kenny’s fine. We’re less sure about Karen.”

“He didn’t find her?” Tweek felt his heart sink. Poor Kenny; Tweek knew how important his sister was to him.

“No, he found her. She’s fine.”

“But?” Tweek prompted, eyes twitching. He was already dreading what Craig was about to say. 

“Cole bit her. Because he was human at the time it runs a really small chance of her turning, but the chance is still there. And it can present differently from a human bite. She’s been a bit warm, though not out of it like you but that doesn’t mean the virus wasn’t transmitted.”

“So she might be a werewolf?” 

“Maybe. Unlikely. She might have wolffish tendencies, though. That’s more likely. She might get violent on full moons, perhaps gain strength she shouldn’t possess, that kind of thing. A full change probably won’t happen, though I couldn’t promise Kenny for sure.”

“Oh Jesus,” Tweek moaned, suddenly feeling terrible for Karen despite the fact that she was more likely to stay human on full moons than he, who was definitely going to turn into a monster, was. 

Why was everything such a mess? Why did everyone he cared about end up suffering or dying? It all revolved around him and, to be honest, Tweek was sick of it. It had to be dealt with before something else bad happened. And, though he didn’t say anything aloud to Craig, Tweek realised that now, _finally_ , he had the means to do something about it. 

Damn straight he was gonna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Badass Tweek here we come! Gonna wrap up Cole/Lizzie shortly. Then I just need to figure out what the hell is going on with Damien (I kinda screwed myself over there with deciding to make him wanna take over Earth because now I have to actually _do_ something with it and I don’t know _what_...) and we’ll be a wrap. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Cartman, Stan and Kyle by the way. I have sort of plans...


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates have become so slow, this chapter just didn’t want to be written. Sigh.

“Stan?” 

Stan was laying awake but unmoving in bed when he heard the painfully familiar voice. His heart sped up but, logically, it couldn’t be him. It just wasn’t possible. 

The room was so dark he couldn’t see anything but he sat up and peered around anyway. His body protested the movement. He’d hardly shifted from his plank position in bed in a week. He hadn’t had the energy or the motivation to do anything. He’d just wanted to lay there, until everything stopped. Until everything ended. 

His parents were worried about him, he knew. They’d told him as much, taking it in turns to perch on his bed and softly talk to him. He hadn’t responded. He hadn’t been sure he’d ever be able to talk again, at least not until he heard the voice call his name again. 

“Kyle?” His voice was dry and raspy from not having been used for so long. It cracked too, although that might have had more to do with the emotions he was feeling and the tears that were gathering in his bloodshot, tired eyes. “Kyle are you here?”

It was stupid. Of course Kyle wasn’t there. Kyle was dead. Still, Stan couldn’t bring himself to turn on the light and face reality. If he was going crazy then he welcomed it. Anything was better than what he was currently feeling: a whole lot of nothing. Besides, if he was going crazy and hallucinating Kyle then at least he would have some form of his boyfriend with him, real or not. 

“I’m here,” came the response. Stan’s heart was racing so fast now he was surprised it hadn’t burst free of him. 

“Where are you?” He half expected not to receive an answer but a warm hand touched his. It felt so real. Stan reached out and placed his on top, though he still couldn’t see anything. “I can’t see you,” he whispered, heart breaking.

“Oh. Sorry,” Kyle said, and, suddenly, there he was. Stan blinked and then Kyle was sitting next to him on the bed, smiling brightly. Stan moved quickly, switching on his lamp. Kyle was still sitting there when the light illuminated the room. 

“You’re alive…”

“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Just visiting because some dumb idiot seems determined to follow in my footsteps.”

“I want to die,” Stan said. He’d wanted to die before. Depression wasn’t a stranger to Stan but, before, he’d had Kyle to pull him through it. Now the only way to pull through was to… not pull through. He would only be happy again if he could be with Kyle and the only way to be with Kyle was to die. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Kyle had always had a no bullshit policy. It seemed that hadn’t changed in death.

“What’s the point in living in a world you’re not in?” 

“For Christ sake, Stan. Stop being overdramatic. There’s plenty of good left in the world and you _will_ find happiness again. I don’t want you giving up on that for my sake.”

“Who said it was for you?” he shot back. Who was he kidding, though? Of course it was for Kyle. So that they could be together again; Stan and Kyle, just like old times. He wanted nothing more. Life without Kyle just felt broken and empty. 

“That’s bullshit! Stan, don’t be such an idiot. If our situation was reversed, would you want me to give up and die?”

Stan thought about it. Of course he’d want to be with Kyle, no matter what, but would he really want to deprive Kyle of life? That would be selfish. “I’d just find a way to stay with you,” he decided finally. Kyle glowered. 

“You think I wouldn’t stay here if I could? Fuck, Stan! I _want_ to be alive. I _want_ to be with you. I _want_ the future we planned! I’m not going to get any of that and it isn’t for lack of wishing hard enough or any other goddamn bullshit reason, okay? I’m dead and I shouldn’t be here at all but God asked me a favour and I grabbed at the chance because it meant I could say _goodbye_.” 

Stan gulped audibly. Kyle looked so fierce. It was the same sort of look he’d get sometimes when ranting about whatever crap Cartman had pulled recently. Stan _loved_ that look. 

“We should never have come back to South Park for the holiday,” Stan said finally, his eyes welling up again. They hadn’t been planning too. They’d wanted to take a mini break together, just the two of them. If they’d have gone away instead of coming home none of this would have happened. They wouldn’t have got caught up in this whole werewolf mess and Kyle wouldn’t have died. Cartman wouldn’t have killed him. If only they hadn’t gotten into that huge blow up over Cartman in the first place… 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Kyle said, softening his voice. “You’re blaming Cartman. You have a certain look about you when he pisses you off.”

“No I don’t,” Stan grumbled. If anyone had a look about them when they thought of Cartman, it was _Kyle._

“I know _all_ your looks, dude,” Kyle said. “Trust me on this. None of this is the fault of that fatass, okay? Not us coming back to South Park instead of our romantic break, and certainly not me dying. You can’t hold that against him. I sure as fuck don’t.”

“But – ”

“Stan,” Kyle said firmly. “No. I won’t have it. You’re not to hate and blame him forever. Everything that happened, it was down to that asshole Cole and nobody else. I can’t even bring myself to blame Craig.”

Stan could. Over the last week in bed he’d blamed Cartman and Craig equally. Why was Kyle, who was the one most wronged here, being such a forgiving hippy? Wasn’t that usually Stan’s role (according to Cartman, anyway)?

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Why are you here, dude?” He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep. He should be overjoyed to see Kyle again but so far his boyfriend was just lecturing him and it was something he could do without. It had always been something he could do without but, now especially, he didn’t need it. Kyle was dead and, while he might be perched on Stan’s bed right now, he wasn’t coming back. After he was gone, this was it. They wouldn’t see each other again. Not until Stan died, anyway. And that was only if they ended up in the same place. Knowing Stan’s luck he’d be thrown into Hell and forgotten about. 

Kyle dropped his gaze, looking hurt at the question. He sighed, as if readying himself. “I need your help with Damien,” he said finally, looking up again but not quite meeting Stan’s eyes. “He’s planning some kind of takeover and God want’s us to stop him before it get’s anywhere. You know, seeing as we have experience in this kind of shit or whatever. He wants us to get Jesus to help, too. Maybe even Satan if needed. Like the good old days.”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan pinched his nose again, closing his eyes. “Why the fuck did we come back to South Park?” They’d always wanted to get out and never return. Now they never could, not together at any rate. That thought broke Stan’s heart all over again. He swallowed the pain away. Right now, he should be brave. Right now he should get out of bed and do this one last thing for his boyfriend while he still could. 

“I know, dude.” Kyle softened his voice again and reached out, once again touching Stan’s hand. “South Park is fucking crazy, right?” 

Stan met Kyle’s green eyes and couldn’t help but smile. He placed his hand atop of Kyle’s and it was almost as if none of the bad stuff had happened. Almost as if they could pretend that they were back in Denver, completely oblivious to werewolves and the son of Satan and all that other shit. Stan clung on to that. He wasn’t strong enough to face reality just yet, not if he was going to help Kyle and save the fucking world. Again. And, let’s be real, of course he was going to help Kyle. 

He would do anything for that boy. Even keep on living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeahhh! Stan and Kyle against the world.


	37. Chapter 37

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur, filled with police, condolences and endless mugs of coffee. Tweek hardly remembered any of it. He spent most of the time hiding out with Craig at Clyde’s house. 

Before he knew it, the full moon was approaching. And, because this curse wasn’t like the movies made it out to be, that meant he had several nights of transformations to look forward to. It was safe to say that Tweek was terrified. He’s always been easily frightened and nearly always over thought things but how else was he meant to feel?! His bones were going to snap and bend and he was going to rip his skin from his body. Jesus Christ, it was going to be awful! Cartman had told him it hurt like hell, although Craig said he was talking shit. Apparently one could never remember much about the change after they were human again. Cartman pointed out that just because he couldn’t really remember the pain it didn’t mean he hadn’t experienced it at the time. His words sent Tweek flying behind the couch, curled into a tight ball. Craig had gotten mad at Cartman and their evening had promptly been ruined. 

It wasn’t just himself that had Tweek worried, however (although that was a big part of it). Stan had recently surfaced from bed and was behaving strangely. Nobody quite knew what he was up to. He was quiet, withdrawn and secretive and while his family and friends were glad to see him out of bed, they weren’t too sure his behaviour was a step in the right direction. Then there was Kenny and Karen, both terrified about what would happen to her during the moons fullest period. She wasn’t showing any obvious signs of having transmitted the curse, although she’d become jumpy, flinching at noises Kenny couldn’t hear. Her bite wound was also taking longer to heal than was expected and Craig had decided she would probably bear the scars for life. “It wasn’t an ordinary bite after all,” he had said. Kenny had decided he’d stay with his sister, the pair of them locked away together, throughout the moons period. Tweek had tried to protest but even Craig had okayed it, as if it didn’t matter if Kenny died or not. “You’ll remember for good soon, honey,” he’d told Tweek and, while Tweek was worried that Craig was crazy, he also trusted the noirette and so nodded numbly and didn’t argue any further. 

On the first night of transformation, Craig, Tweek, Cartman, Karen and Kenny made their way to the genetics lab, a place most of them hadn’t been since that horrible night Kyle had died. Tweek hardly dared enter the place for fear of the ghosts that would haunt him inside but Craig had pointed out it was the safest place for them. It was large, secluded and abandoned. Nobody would get hurt if they used it as their place of transformation. 

Police tape was strung up around the exterior, warning people away. They ignored it, pulling it out of their way to enter the large, derelict building. As he’d expected, as soon as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Tweek was almost blown over by the force of the memories from _that_ night. He whimpered, grabbing Craig’s hand and squeezing it tightly. 

Both Cartman and Kenny looked pale and uncomfortable, whilst Karen just looked downright scared. She hadn’t been there that night but she’d seen the news and, since being bitten, she’d been clued in on a safe for work version of what had played out in the building. 

“Right. Kenny and Karen, you take the glass prison I was in last time. You’ll be safest there incase nothing happens but we break loose,” Craig said. Karen gave her brother a frightened look but he just smiled and squeezed her hand. “Cartman – ”

“I want the room,” Cartman said with conviction. Nobody had to ask him what room he meant. 

“Jesus man! Are you sure?!” 

“I want the room,” Cartman repeated, looking a little green. Without waiting for anything further to be said, he stormed off, a look of determination glistening in his brown eyes. The four remaining supernaturals exchanged a look but said nothing about Cartman’s behaviour. 

“I hope everything goes okay in there, Tweekers,” Kenny said, pulling Tweek into a tight hug. As the smaller blond shivered against him he added, “You’ll be fine. You’ve got this.” Tweek wasn’t so sure but he gave Kenny a weak smile as they pulled apart. He gave Karen a brief hug next, telling her he hoped she’d have a quiet night free of anything werewolf related. She muttered a thanks but couldn’t muster a smile. With that she followed Kenny, leaving Tweek and Craig alone. 

“Jesus Christ, man! This is horrible!” 

“You’ll be fine,” Craig said calmly, taking Tweek’s shoulders in his hands and staring down into his green eyes. “I’ll be with you the entire time. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Craig said and he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Tweek’s lips. He was pulling away again far too soon for Tweek’s liking but, he supposed, now wasn’t really the right time. Right now he should be concentrating on surviving the night and not killing anyone. If he could do that then he could kiss Craig as much as he wanted in the morning. A reward, of sorts, for making it through the first night. 

Craig led him through the maze of a building to a lower level, somewhere beneath the ground. It was especially dark and terrifying down here with only their phone lights to guide their path. 

“ _Rrrr_!! How much further are we going, man?” Tweek shivered, his eyes darting everywhere as the shadows played tricks on his mind, making him see things that weren’t really there.

“There’s a room just a little further that has power from the generator. I thought you’d prefer that as it might be another hour or two before the change.”

“What happens if you change before me? Will you eat me?! Oh God…”

“Tweek, remember? I don’t even have to change tonight. Only on the full moon. I won’t change until you do, I promise.” In his panic, Tweek had completely forgotten that a well practised wolf was only forced to change one a month. He hoped he could reach that stage quickly. The idea of having several nights of transformations was, quite frankly, terrifying and, well, way too much pressure.

They finally made it to the room. Tweek was surprised to see it was less decrepit than the rest of the building, as if somebody had been living in it. He looked at Craig who shrugged. 

“This was where I was staying when I was hiding out here. I tidied it up a bit.” It looked more than tidied up ‘a bit’, it looked downright cosy. Tweek arched an eyebrow until Craig sighed. “I might have popped in yesterday to make it a bit more homely.”

“Aren’t we just going to ruin everything, man?”

“…I didn’t think of that.” Craig actually blushed. Tweek almost laughed. For a cynical werewolf, Craig could be quite the sweetheart when he wanted to be. Tweek couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He was almost suspicious of it if he were honest, as if he believed it was all a trap and his luck would run out sooner rather than later. 

Of course, once the thought was in his mind it was hard to shake. But this was Craig. He didn’t have anything to fear from Craig. That was what Cole and Lizzie were for. Tweek hadn’t forgotten his promise to himself to deal with them and make them pay for everything they had done. He just needed to survive his first full moon and then he could get to work on that. They had ruined so many lives and, even if it cost him his own, he was going to make them pay for that. 

“What’s on your mind? You look determined.”

“GAH!” Tweek startled and shook his head, “nothing. Just worrying about the change. You sure it’ll go alright?” He wasn’t going to tell Craig about his plans. Craig would probably try and stop him.

“It won’t be an easy ride, babe, but you can trust me. I’ll get you through this.” Craig smiled, although it was the sad kind of smile. He was still torn up about not being able to save Tweek from being turned. 

“Of course I trust you,” Tweek said, and he took Craig’s hand and squeezed it gently.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, I just haven’t been in the mood to write (sorry if that comes across with this chapter. I feel like it does but I’d rather get something out at this point than nothing.)
> 
> You may find we do go a couple of weeks without an update from here on out and I’m sorry if that’s the case. However, this story is so close to the end now that I am determined to finish it even if it takes me another few months! So I hope you stick around to see it conclude and I hope it doesn’t disappoint too much. I like to think that at some point after its finished I’ll go through the entire story and tidy it up but we shall see...

Tweek woke up after his first transformation confused, naked and aching all over. He shivered, hunched over, in the corner of the room until Craig approached him, draping a blanket across his shoulders. He huddled into it, not daring to look Craig in the eyes. 

“How’d you feel?” the noirette asked, careful to keep his voice low as if he clearly remembered the piercing headache from after his first change. Tweek only groaned in reply, burying his face behind the fleece. 

He couldn’t remember a thing from the previous night. The last memory he could conjure up was arriving in the ‘safe room’ with Craig. Judging from how sore he was, though, it had been an ordeal and certainly not one he was keen to repeat. Too bad that this was to be the rest of his life. If there was a cure, he was sure Craig would have found and used it by now. The noirette certainly wasn’t happy with the hand he’d been dealt in life. 

From his cocoon, Tweek heard shuffling as Craig moved around. The minor noise grated against his eardrums as though a drum kit was being played right next to his ear with empathise on the cymbal. His new, improved hearing was both a blessing and a curse. In this moment, it was more of a curse, though. 

He had the taste of wet dog in his mouth as well, which only helps to reaffirm how sucky the whole werewolf thing was. It would take at least seven mugs of coffee before he could get rid of that taste. _Coffee._ Tweek peeked out of his blanket fort, eyes adjusting to the light of the room as he blinked in rapid succession. 

“There you are,” Craig said, smiling softly. In his arms he held a bundle of clothes, which he handed to Tweek once the blond had gathered his wits. “I suppose you’ll be wanting some coffee?”

“ _Nngh…_ Yeah…”

“We should probably check on the others first but then we can walk into town?” Tweek shivered at the very thought, diving back under the safety of his blanket. Now that his parents were… gone, there was only one other place to get coffee in town and they would still have to pass the abandoned Tweek Bros. to get to it. Tweek wasn’t sure he could handle that. It was too much, too soon. Craig’s gaze softened as he seemed to realise what was going on in Tweek’s mind. “We could ask Token and Clyde to bring some over?”

“Yeah,” Tweek agreed, the relief seeping through his tone. 

With the prospect of hot coffee soon to be in his hands, Tweek scrambled into his clothes, assuming Craig had warned him to shed them the night before and incredibly thankful for that. He didn’t like the idea of being trapped naked in this terrifying laboratory.

The room was a mess. Most of the throws and cushions Craig had decorated the place with had been shredded. Apparently the two wolves had had some objections to the colourful material. Like a wild snow storm had somehow broken out inside, feathers and padding scattered the room artistically, leaving a whole lot of white between the colourful tatters of blankets. 

Tweek eyed the mess in apprehension. Had he done that? The thought of being so wild and out of control… _Jesus!_ That was, well… quite frankly, terrifying. Yet also, oddly, freeing. Exciting, almost. It was a shame he couldn’t remember a thing about it. 

Leaving the room, they made their way first to where they had left Kenny and Karen. Karen was asleep, curled up with her head resting in Kenny’s lap. Kenny was alive, although he was a little worse for wear, his left eye bruised and swollen and his lip bust. 

“She semi transformed?” Craig asked as he opened the door, releasing them from their glass prison. 

“She sort of… Hulked out,” Kenny said, wincing a little. He didn’t seem annoyed, however, fondly stroking his sisters hair as she breathed gently in and out. “Only for an hour though. Midnight to one.”

“Huh,” Craig said, also looking down at the sleeping girl. 

“How are you, Tweekers?” Kenny asked softly, bringing his gaze up to look at Tweek who lingered awkwardly at the glass doorway. 

“Um… Pass?” Tweek didn’t really know how to answer that question. Physically, he was fine. He couldn’t even remember anything. And yet there was a confusing mix of feelings swimming inside of him that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Kenny seemed to understand. He tried to smile sympathetically but ended up wincing. Tweek couldn’t tear his wide eyes away from the blond’s battered face. Karen had done that? 

“You guys seen Cartman?”

“We were about to go check on him,” Craig said. Cartman had already transformed a few times before and knew the deal. They’d thought it best to check on the McCormick siblings first. 

Kenny woke Karen, who took one look at her brothers face and then burst into tears, apologising profoundly. Kenny hushed her, assuring her it was fine, he was fine, she was fine, everything was fine. It took her ten whole minutes to calm down but, eventually, they were on their way to find Cartman. None of them were keen on the idea of reentering the room where Kyle had died and with good reason. The room had been a massacre last time they’d seen it and while Kyle’s body, or what remained of it, had been removed by the police, they doubt they’d had the courtesy of cleaning up after them. Why Cartman had wanted to transform there of all places was beyond them. Tweek had thought it would be the last place in the world he would want to be. 

It didn’t take them long to reach the room. None of them had forgotten the way and, if they had of, the police tape would have guided them. The door was still firmly shut when they reached it but, when they knocked, there was no answer from inside. 

They exchanged uneasy looks. Could something have happened? No… it was more likely that Cartman had woken up human and scarpered straight away, not bothering to check on his friends first. Tweek took a deep breath as Craig pushed open the door. 

The room was empty. 

“Son of a bitch,” Craig breathed out. “He could have at least – ” He cut off as Kenny, who had entered the room, looking only a little pale, held up a note. “What’s it say?”

“‘Screw you guys, I’m going home,’” Kenny said, rolling his eyes. “What an ass.”

“Well as long as he returns tonight I guess that’s fine, right?” Tweek said, twitching a little. He was a still desperate for a cup of coffee. His hands were trembling horribly. 

 

Cartman did return again that night. He was pale and barely said a word as he hurried past his friends to lock himself back in the room. Spending time in the last place Kyle had been alive was obviously not doing him a whole lot of good but they all knew what Cartman was like. He wouldn’t listen to them and he’d only make them regret trying to be nice to him. Instead they just let him get on with it. 

Craig told Karen she didn’t need to lock herself up and she told Kenny that he didn’t have to stay but both were as stubborn as the other. They didn’t want to take any risks and Tweek couldn’t say he blamed them. 

By the time it was just the two of them, they had about an hour left until the change would occur. Although he knew he wouldn’t remember any of it, Tweek was jumpy and uncomfortable. He was sure something would go horribly wrong because it couldn’t be this easy. Things just didn’t go as smoothly as they seemed to be going. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural.

Unfortunately, Tweek was right. 

The blond was trailing behind Craig, watching his feet rather than his tall boyfriend. They were following the maze of corridors back to their ‘room’ in silence, Tweek lost in his thoughts and Craig just naturally silent.

Tweek only looked up when there was a heavy thud in front of him. He let out a squeal of distress as he spotted Craig laying motionlessly on the floor, a thin trickle of blood sliding down his forehead. 

“C-Craig?” He rushed over and knelt by the noirette. He was alive – thank God – but had been bashed on the head pretty badly. Tweek glanced up but there was nothing even he could have accidentally hit his unnaturally high head on. That only meant –

Tweek narrowed his eyes and glanced around his surroundings. His sharpened eyesight could see in dark corners he previously wouldn’t have been able to but, even then, he couldn’t spot anything unnatural. That didn’t mean anything, though. He’d experienced Cole enough now to know the man was tricky. 

“I know it’s you,” he said aloud, trying to keep his voice steady. He’d wanted to deal with Cole, right? So what if he was currently mentally unprepared. It was still something he’d longed to do. It wasn’t as if Tweek was useless, either. He’d been in fights before. Sure, save for current failed attempts, not in a long while but they still counted. He’d fought Craig when they were eight. After Craig had left he’d gotten into lots of fights over the years between eleven and sixteen. Mostly with Eric Cartman. Mostly, he’d won. Tweek could be savage when he wanted to be. 

He clenched his teeth. Right now was a good time to find that inner savage. 

“Come out, you bastard!” Tweek yelled, fingers curling into fists. “It’s time to end this!” 

Tweek wondered whether he was capable of killing someone. Then again, did Cole really count? He was more monster than person, right? He’d done awful things. He was responsible for Cartman and Kyle’s terrible fates. He had kept Craig for years as a possession. He had almost killed Tweek himself several times. Tweek was even pretty sure that he may have actually killed Kenny (although he was also pretty certain that Kenny was still alive… Briefly he wondered if that was what Craig had meant about him understanding soon?) 

Whether he was capable or not, it was something that needed to be done. This hell could only end when Cole was dead. Of course, if he killed Cole that would make him Alpha and, _crap_ , that was a lot of pressure. Too much, Tweek thought. 

Still crouched over Craig, he let his whirlwind of a mind overpower him, the noisy thoughts blocking out everything until it was almost as if he was existing only in a dark void of swirling thoughts. Because of that, he didn’t notice the blow that knocked into his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards painfully. The void exploded into a burst of bright red and blinking stars and a disorientated Tweek felt his hair being grabbed by a hand that wasn’t his own…


	39. Chapter 39

“Well hello there, Tweek.” There was an edge to Cole’s voice that the blond had never heard before. Almost unhinged. Perhaps the stress of trying and failing to take down people in Craig’s life had finally gotten to him? Tweek blinked through the stars that distorted his swimming vision, fighting to see the man looming above him, still with a firm grip to his head. “Are you ready to end this?” The hand in his hair tugged harder, bringing tears to his eyes. Tweek grit his teeth, tasting blood on them, as he tried hard to fight the pain. He couldn’t let the bastard win, not when he had already taken so much. 

“More than ready,” the blond growled with fire he didn’t really feel, eyes seeking out his captors own pair with an intensity that seemed to surprise the Alpha. 

“You can’t beat me,” Cole said, “you know that, right?” 

“I can – _nngh_ – I can damn well try!” 

“I do like your spirit. It almost makes me want to spare you but you and your damn friends have been too disruptive, too big of a pain in my ass. I can’t let it go on.”

“This isn’t even about Craig anymore, is it?” Tweek asked through gritted teeth, wincing as the grip in his hair tightened slightly, yanking his head further back, stopping him from glancing at the fallen noirette at his feet. 

“Don’t tell _him_ that,” Cole said, winking. 

“What is your problem?”

“Craig and that immortal idiot have pissed me off too much recently.” Cole shrugged casually, as if they were sitting drinking tea and he wasn’t yanking painfully on the blond’s wild mane. “They need to be taught a lesson.”

“So this has nothing to do with me?” 

“It was never about you. Don’t be so self centred. This started as me wanting to keep Craig in his rightful place. Now it’s just about teaching him a lesson. _Don’t fuck with the Alpha_.” 

The guy was an asshole. Tweek already knew that, of course. He was also dangerous and crazy; a bad mix at the best of times. It made him unpredictable and Tweek hated unpredictable. He liked to feel safe and in the know. He liked to understand everything that was going on around him. Of course, people often fucked that up for him. People were, of course, spontaneous but, generally, they behaved in certain ways that could often be determined. Cole was not like that. Other than being consistent in wanting Tweek dead, the werewolf had never failed to surprise Tweek. Even this attack now, Tweek hadn’t really seen coming. He’d known there was a chance Cole would strike during the period of the full moon but he hadn’t expected _this._

Craig was unconscious. Kenny was locked away in a room he couldn’t escape from. Even Cartman was shut away, not that Tweek was sure the fatass would raise a finger to help him if he knew the blond was in trouble. And, to make matters worse, Tweek could feel the change coming. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his entire body trembled (he was pretty sure that wasn’t _entirely_ due to his predicament). He didn’t have long and, once it happened, instinct would kick in over logic and Tweek doubted very much that his wolf self stood a chance against an Alpha. No, his best shot was taking Cole out while he was still human but, considering he hadn’t even managed to break his hair free from the hold it was clutched in, he didn’t see how that would be at all possible. 

“Trying to come up with a plan?” Cole’s lips twitched in amusement. He knew he had Tweek stuck. Knew he had the upper hand. What was Tweek meant to do? There was nothing he _could_ do. Nothing but die. Oh God, he was going to die, wasn’t he? He was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Craig was going to wake up and discover him dead. 

Tweek couldn’t allow that. He just _couldn’t._

With gritted teeth he stood up, bringing the hand in his hair up with him. Cole didn’t try and stop the movement, nor did his grip tighten. It didn’t slacken either, though. 

“So what now?” Cole taunted. What now, indeed? Tweek didn’t have a plan. All he knew was that he had minutes before the change overpowered him and he had to do something while he was still human. If he allowed the change to consume him it would be over before it even finished. He only came up to Cole’s shoulder, though, and his body still hadn’t recovered from his last beating. He wasn’t strong. He wasn’t brave. Hell, he wasn’t even stupid. A stupid person could be trusted to do something stupid and unexpected in such a situation. Tweek was only cautious. Cautious and just a little pissed off. 

“Now I kill you,” Tweek declared and, surprising even himself, he did something incredibly stupid. He ripped his head back, roaring through gritted teeth as he felt hair rip from his scalp. It had the desired effect, though. He was free. Ignoring the pain, he charged at Cole, determined to send the taller man sprawling. With the change so close upon him, he felt stronger than he ever had. He felt as if he could do this. He felt –

-Cole stopped him in his tracks with a flattened out palm. Tweek’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew the Alpha was stronger than him but this was ridiculous. It was like he was a toddler trying to assault a bodybuilder. Despite whatever foolhardy hope he’d held, Tweek realised he really _did_ stand no chance. There was nothing he could do. It had been stupid of him to think otherwise. 

“Sorry to put a stopper in that plan,” Cole said lightly. His hand curled around Tweek’s neck, where the blond felt the air close off to him. 

This was it, then. At least he wouldn’t have to transform again. He could feel the beast inside of him fighting to escape but it would be over for them well before it found its freedom. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up. He couldn’t just _quit._

His vision was growing darker. His own hands clawed feebly at the tight grip around him. When that didn’t work, he groped around him, blindly feeling for something he could use. Something, _anything_ , that might save him. There was nothing and he was fast loosing the fight to keep looking. His eyes fluttered, his hands, suddenly oh-so-heavy, dropping to his side. As his fingers brushed uselessly against his legs he felt a sharp pain. Something had cut him. 

He was groggy, his brain starved of oxygen, his vision a dark tunnel he could barely see through but, somehow, he understood: The wolf wasn’t ready to give up. The wolf wanted to fight. 

With a desperate struggle, Tweek managed to lock eyes with Cole. The Alpha frowned, seeing something new in the blond’s gaze that hadn’t been there moments before. He opened his mouth to say something but the words never came. Instead his eyes widened and his grip around Tweek’s neck slackened as a sharp, pointed nail pierced into his neck. 

Their eyes locked, Tweek’s tunnel vision started to clear a little as a small amount of much needed air was able to breech through the slackened hold on him. The Alpha’s mouth was hanging slightly open, his eyes wide and unfocused on the green pair before him. The nail slid out from flesh at the same time the hands closed around Tweek’s neck finally released him. Bright blood spurted from the puncture wound in an almost comical way before Cole could plaster his hands over the hole, dropping to his knees at the same time. 

For Tweek, there was no time to catch his breath or cry in relief as the painful pressure that definitely bruised his neck finally slackened. Instead, his body hunched over as a tremor of agony swept across him, the beast finally deciding enough was enough. He screamed out as his fingers burst open further, his mutated clawed hands becoming paws. 

The change came rapidly, leaving him barely enough time to think ‘ _no, not with Craig unconscious here…’_ before Tweek’s mind clouded over and the monster took charge and Tweek Tweak was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Cole’s end seemed rushed then apologies. It’s gotten to the stage where I’m seriously worried that if I don’t start wrapping things up then this story will end up abandoned. Too many SP fics seem to have been abandoned recently. Seriously, in the last month or two only one author I follow has updated their fics. I don’t want this to join that list. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a lot of my readers with the mess this fic has become anyway, so if you _are_ still sticking around then I am SO sorry and thank you and I love you. You are a wonderful human who apparently doesn’t mind that you’re reading a load of crap and for that I am entirely grateful and I _will_ finish this fic for your sake! haha


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind words last chapter. I’m so glad a bunch of you are still around and still enjoying this <3 You guys are the best! As some of you pointed out, I am pretty hard on myself. I should stop that... haha 
> 
> I’m estimating about another 5 chapters or so being left. We’re so close!!

The smell of blood was thick and heavy in the air, enough to drive him wild. There were two humans on the floor but he focused solely on the one responsible for the delectable scent. He ran his tongue over the pool of crimson that spread around the body like a halo, getting a taste for it, making him hungrier than he knew possible. 

The human was still alive, he realised, though barely. Certainly not enough to fight him off. It gurgled on its own blood, its body contorting in some sort of seizure as the last dregs of life slipped away from it. He sniffed it, freezing as he caught another scent coming from it that wasn’t quite human. A scent that should have made him heel. Now, as weak and pathetic as it was, it would do no such thing. Instead, it just made him curious. 

So this was his Alpha, huh? Not much of an Alpha if it was drowning in its own blood, really. He wondered what had happened to it before realising that he held vague memories of _him_ happening. Back when he was in his other, less impressive form. It was strange that he recalled that; he was pretty certain he shouldn’t be able to remember such things. He wondered why he was even aware of that fact. Some part of him was certain he shouldn’t be so self aware right now. Had it been like this the previous night? How was he even capable of thinking logically enough to consider how he’d behaved the previous night? Unless…

The nearer the human slipped towards death, the more he seemed to awaken. Was this something to do with Alpha power? In his fight for survival he’d forgotten all about the transfer of the Alpha position. Now it came back to him in blinding Technicolor. He was an Alpha wolf now. He was _Craig’s_ Alpha. He was – _Oh God, that was way too much pressure!!!_

Suddenly, instead of a monster, he was Tweek Tweak again. Well, mentally anyway. His form was still that of a wolf. It was a weird sensation. Tweek wasn’t sure he cared for it. It freaked him out, made him want to run for the hills and never come home again. But, at least he was in control. At least he wouldn’t get the urge to eat Craig, still unconscious on the floor. He moved closer to the noirette, nudging his face and feeling calmed by his warm breath that tickled his nose. Good, he was still alive. 

The same couldn’t be said for Cole. Cautiously, Tweek approached the bloodied, fallen ex-Alpha. _He_ had done that. _He_ was responsible for that death and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. On the floor, drained of blood, Cole looked so harmless, so innocent. Tweek found it hard to recall how it was the same man who had beaten him within an inch of his life and would have killed him if Tweek hadn’t of beaten him to the punch. 

Suddenly there was a low groan. Tweek’s ears twitched and he looked up as Craig stirred. It took him a moment to sit up but, when he did, his eyes locked on the wolf hovering over Cole and he tensed. Moving slowly and being careful to maintain eye contact, Craig moved to stand. 

Tweek tried to speak, to tell Craig he had nothing to worry about but wolves couldn’t speak and all that he achieved was a rumbling growl. 

“Tweek…” Craig said slowly, cautiously, his hands raised in a surrender pose. “It’s me, okay? I’m going to change now. Just don’t – ”

Ignoring him entirely, Tweek plodded forward. Craig tensed further, his eyes full of panic, certain that he was about to be mauled to death. Instead of growling or attacking, however, when Tweek was close enough, he nudged Craig’s hand with his nose. 

“Huh?” The noirette frowned, peering down at Tweek in confusion. “Are you… aware in there?” Tweek nudged him again and, hesitantly, Craig petted his head. A warmth filled Tweek and he felt as if he finally understood why dogs enjoyed the attention so much. Maybe it was just because it was Craig touching him, Tweek wasn’t sure. Either way, it was certainly a feeling he could get used to. “Do you understand me?” Craig asked quietly, staring at Tweek in wonder as he continued to stroke between his ears. Tweek let out a soft noise in affirmation.

Craig sat down again, his legs basically crumbling beneath him in shocked relief. His gaze quickly flickered to Cole’s body and back at Tweek, who laid down next time him, resting his head in the noirette’s lap. 

“It’s the full moon tomorrow,” Craig said quietly, gently toying with the hairs between Tweek’s ears. “I guess I have a new Alpha to obey now.” Tweek lifted his head, looking at the man and seeing the sadness in his eyes. He wanted to ask him what was up, wanted to make sure he was okay but, despite apparently having inherited the role of Alpha, he was still too new at this werewolf game to be able to change at will. He’d need time, patience and practise to get there which meant that, for now at least, he was stuck being supportive the only way a wolf was able. He licked Craig’s cheek, tasting the salt and flesh in an enhanced way he wouldn’t have been able to as a human. Craig laughed and gently pushed him away. “Gross, Tweek!” His smile quickly dropped, though, as his gaze fell back on Cole. Tweek wished he knew what he was thinking. Was he sad that the man was gone? Relieved? Maybe he was just annoyed that it wasn’t him, in the end, who’d managed to land the finishing blow? After everything the Alpha had put them all through, he definitely saw the appeal. Still, he had been the one to finish things in the end and he felt pretty damn terrible about it. Despite that, he was glad it hadn’t been Craig; Craig who had, at least for a short while, had some kind of feelings for the man. Craig who had hated the idea of taking on the responsibility of a pack perhaps more than Tweek himself. 

The rest of the night was a restful one. Craig slept, sitting upright with his back pressed against the wall and his fingers curled into Tweek’s fur. The werewolf himself didn’t sleep, his mind too busy whirling. He was an Alpha werewolf now. What did that entail exactly? Did he have to leave South Park and lead a pack, because he didn’t want that! He might not have much left keeping him in the quiet mountain town he’d grown up in but that didn’t mean he wanted to leave to be some kind of leader. Jesus Christ, no! That was far too much pressure. 

He wondered whether there was a way to hand over the power to somebody else without him having to die. Maybe he could just nominate a stand in, somebody who could take charge in his stead so that he and Craig could have the quiet life together that they deserved. Cartman would probably jump at the chance. To be honest, Tweek wasn’t all together sure Cartman wouldn’t attempt to murder him now so that _he_ could become the official Alpha as he’d so greedily seemed to wish for. It was certainly something Tweek wouldn’t put past the man who’d once made chilli out of his stepbrother’s parents. 

Changing back into human form when morning came was an unpleasant experience that Tweek wished he’d never have to undergo again. It was painful, uncomfortable and humiliating, too. Unfortunately, self awareness and remembering everything about the change seemed to be one of the ‘perks’ of being Alpha. _Perk my ass!_

“How do you feel?” Craig asked softly, after Tweek had stopped trembling and moaning out in pain. He handed the blond a blanket; his clothes had been ruined in the change. 

“Like hell,” Tweek complained. “I can taste wet dog in my mouth, too.”

“Yup,” Craig popped the P, “sucks, doesn’t it?” He came over and sat down besides the smaller man, pulling an arm around his shoulder and bringing Tweek closer against him. “So, you being aware was odd,” he said. “I didn’t know Cole could do that.” At the mention of Cole, both their eye’s flickered towards the body that Craig had haphazardly covered with a, now bloodstained, blanket. Tweek felt his stomach lurch at the sight. As a wolf, he may have been aware but, as a human, he felt the repercussions of what he’d done in a whole other light. It made him feel sick. It made him want to cry and scream and hide away forever. It also made him feel relieved, which brought about a whole other conflict of emotions. 

Cole was _gone_. No longer would he torment Tweek and his friends. He could never hurt anyone ever again. His reign of terror was _over_. As awful as Tweek felt for being the one to bring about his demise, he was definitely glad to no longer have to fear for his life. _Although…_

“Gah! What about Lizzie, man?! Do you think she’ll be back?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Craig said, sounding worried. “She seems to have a weird thing for you, though. Now that you’re Alpha, she’ll probably just want to serve at your feet or some crazy shit.” Tweek wasn’t sure if he preferred that to the idea of her trying to kill him. Both sounded equally bad.

They fell silent for a little while, both lost in thoughts they weren’t ready to share with the other. Tweek finally broke it, his gaze falling back to the covered body.

“What are we meant to do about Cole?” Werewolf or not, it was still murder. He’d be locked away for a long time if they went to the police, especially if they couldn’t prove self defence. (With the South Park police, even the bruises that coated Tweek head to toe wouldn’t necessarily be proof enough. The police force were unpredictable and, to be honest, complete idiots.) 

Craig followed his gaze, gulping heavily. “I’ll dispose of it,” he said finally. The idea of Craig having to do that made Tweek’s heart sink but he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Not just yet. He didn’t have the energy to fight the stubborn man quite yet, nor was he keen on the idea of disposing the body himself. 

“Do you hate me?” It was a necessary question, but one Tweek dreaded the answer to.

Craig looked startled. He frowned deeply before cupping Tweek’s face between his hands and pressing his forehead against the blond’s. “I could _never_ hate you, Tweek.”

“But – ”

“If you hadn’t of killed him, I would have. Trust me, the world’s better off without that monster in it.” There was a waver in his voice that made Tweek think he didn’t believe his own words as much as he was trying to make Tweek. He supposed that was fair enough. Even if he had ended up hating the Alpha, they had still been through a lot together. 

“ _Nngh…_ You’re allowed to feel sad, you know,” Tweek said quietly. 

“I don’t know what I feel,” Craig confessed. “But I _know_ I’m glad you’re alive and safe.” 

“Me too, man,” Tweek said, and he brushing his lips against Craig’s in a chaste kiss. 

It had been a long, horrible night and Tweek was exhausted but here, alive and safe with Craig’s arms around him, Tweek couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but happy. 

He hoped it would last but happiness had a way of being fleeting and, though neither of them spared a thought about it in that moment, they still had the threat of the son of Satan hanging over them, threatening to uproot everything…


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the kudos and comments guys <3

“This is bullcrap!” Cartman folded his arms across his large chest, a childish pout forming on his face. As Tweek had expected, he’d taken the news of Alpha being passed over to somebody other than himself poorly. 

Kenny glared at Cartman but didn’t say anything. He’d been quiet since they’d let him and Karen out of their glass prison and Karen had exclaimed with surprise, ‘It’s you. You’re the Alpha now!’ Tweek hoped the blond wasn’t mad at him. He hadn’t meant to become his sister’s Alpha! Jesus Christ, he just wanted a quiet life! It wasn’t his fault things kept happening to him. 

“So you inherent all of Cole’s Pack?” Token asked. He and Clyde had shown up, coffee and spare clothes in tow, not fifteen minutes ago. Tweek was currently nursing his takeaway cup close to him, as if afraid somebody would steal it away. They’d have to pry it from his cold, dead hands first. The coffee seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane right now. 

Tweek twitched and didn’t answer, Token’s question already sending his brain into a frenzy. He jumped as Craig placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder, calming almost instantly after. 

“That seems to be the way it works,” the noirette answered for him. “The only way I know of thinning the Pack is to kick people out – ” Tweek started to nod hopefully. Maybe if they kicked everyone except Craig, Cartman and Karen (if she even officially counted as a Pack member? Tweek wasn’t sure) out it would be less pressure? “But that’s inadvisable.” 

“Wha?! Why?” 

“Because then they’d probably form their own Pack and come after you.”

“WHAA!!” Hot coffee slopped over his green shirt but he barely felt it. He didn’t want the pressure and responsibility of being in charge but he didn’t want a bunch of angry werewolves to come after him, either! He’d had quite enough of that for a lifetime, thank you very much! His life had gone to shit because of werewolves as it was, what with one close friend dying and his parent’s being murdered; both things that he avidly tried to avoid thinking about too much. They were too fresh, too painful to think about right now. Tweek couldn’t afford to allow himself to return to his dark place. He hoped he’d never return to that awful abyss. 

“Don’t worry Tweek, I won’t let that happen,” Craig said. 

“I’m right there with him, Tweekers. I’ll make sure you stay safe.” Tweek couldn’t help but smile. There was a softness in Kenny’s voice that suggested he wasn’t mad after all. Having his two favourite people agreeing with one another and watching his back definitely helped ease Tweek’s mind a little. Especially as Kenny finally seemed to have accepted that he and Tweek would never be a thing and that he was totally in love with Butters anyway. As if furthering that fact, a new smiling blond meekly entered the room, waving.

“Hey fellas, sorry I’m late…”

“Leo!” Kenny jumped to his feet and rushed over to Butters, pulling him into a hug as if he hadn’t seen the other young man in forever. Something seemed to have changed between the pair since Kenny had left in search of Karen. Whatever that something was, Tweek was happy for them. 

“Gee, Kenny, it’s nice to see you too.”

“Butters, have you seen Stan?” Token asked as the pair pulled apart from each other, but remained close. 

“Gee, well, no I haven’t. Sorry fellas. My parent’s are awfully sore at me right now, I had to sneak away just to make it here.”

“Shit,” Clyde complained. “Maybe we should go search for him?”

“Any of you fags actually figured out what he’s up to?” Cartman asked. It still felt weird not to have Kyle angrily call out the guy for his homophobic slur. It would possibly never stop being weird. Nobody bothered to do it in his stead. It wouldn’t feel right. 

“His parent’s told me he’d said something about helping out Kyle,” Token said with a deep frown. It was a worrying thought. 

“But Kyle is – ” Butters didn’t finish his sentence. Kenny threaded his fingers through the smaller blond’s, squeezing his hand. 

“We know that, dumbass!” Cartman snapped defensively. “Don’t mean jack, though. He visited me when I was in Hell.”

“Yeah, but that was Hell,” Kenny said. “It’s a place where the dead belong. The dead don’t belong on Earth.”

“Still get motherfucking ghosts, though, don’t you?”

“You think Kyle came back as a ghost to haunt Stan?” Kenny arched an eyebrow, tilting his head in a way that suggested he felt as if he were talking to a moron. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Cartman snapped. “I think he came back as a ghost to fucking help him! You know Jew boy get’s wet for that kind of shit.”

“Help him with what?” Butters asked. Cartman stared at him in disbelief.

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by fucking idiots. Help the emo-fag not want to commit suicide, maybe?” 

“Gosh, do you think he would?” Butters chewed on his bottom lip in worry. 

“Do you even know Stan at all?” Cartman snapped. “Depressed asshole who drowns his sorrows with a different kind of spirit?” 

“That’s all very well and good,” Clyde interrupted, “but that doesn’t explain why Stan is running about town like a man possessed.”

“Maybe – Ahh!” Tweek panicked as all eyes fell on to him. He was still reeling from the previous night and having the rooms attention when he was suggesting a stupid idea was all a little bit too much. 

“Go on,” Karen, who had been standing quietly enough that Tweek had almost forgotten she was still there, encouraged gently. Tweek had always gotten on with Karen, she was patient and kind with him much like her brother. 

“ _Nngh_ … Well… um, maybe he is? Possessed, I mean?” 

“You think Kyle possessed him?” Kenny raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Gah, I dunno, man! It’s a stupid idea.”

“It’s not,” Karen spoke up again. “I know I’ve not been here through it all, but I know the story. What if they’re working together? Kyle went to Heaven, right? So what if God or Jesus sent him back to Earth because they know and want to prevent something?” She arched an eyebrow, waiting for the penny to drop. 

“Like what?” Clyde asked, slower than the rest to pick up on what Karen was suggesting. 

“That makes a lot of sense,” Token said. 

“Nope, still lost.”

“Damien, you moron,” Cartman snapped. “You already forgotten he asked me to run his evil army and help overthrow Earth?”

“You’re not going to, right?” Kenny arched an eyebrow at the larger man. Now that he’d lost his shot at becoming Alpha (which had basically been the only reason he’d decided against helping the son of Satan in the first place.) there was no telling what he’d do. 

“Said I wasn’t gonna, didn’t I, po’boy!” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Ay! Screw you!” 

“Guys, enough!” Token snapped. “If Karen’s right then Stan and Kyle might be out there right now, trying to prevent literal Hell on Earth. Instead of arguing, shouldn’t we try and help them?” 

“It’s the full moon tonight,” Cartman pointed out. 

“Craig, can the Alpha control his pack? Stop them running ravage?” 

“Of course.”

“Then that’s sorted,” Token said. “Tweek will remain in control when he changes and he can make sure the rest of you do, too.” 

“JESUS NO! That’s way too much pressure!” Tweek’s fingers found his hair and tugged. He could barely keep his own life together. How the hell was he meant to keep a bunch of werewolves in line? Especially when those wolves included Eric Cartman! 

“Hey, you’ll do fine. I believe in you, honey.”

“And what if I screw up?! What if one of you kills somebody?! Can’t we just wait until tomorrow? Jesus Christ, let’s not tempt fate!” 

“Tweeky. I know you’re worried but I’m going to be straight with you here. I _know_ Damien pretty well. He’d think a full moon is the perfect time to strike because we’ll be occupied. And, let’s face it, we’re the most likely people to try and stop him, sucky as that is. 

“You’re the Alpha wolf now. You need to accept that responsibility.” Tweek averted his gaze from Kenny. Maybe the blond was mad at him after all? He certainly wasn’t being as soothing as usual. Then again, maybe that was how Tweek needed him to be right now? Because he was right, as much as Tweek loathed to admit it. It was his own fault that he was Alpha. He had to accept that and take responsibility for it. 

“ _Grrr…_ ” he shivered, “I guess so. But what are we meant to do?”

“We find Stan and Kyle and ask them,” Token said. “They’re planning something. We just need to make sure they get the help they need.”

“The old team back together!” Clyde said in false brightness. Because, deep down, they all knew that, regardless of whether Kyle was helping them out right now, he was dead and gone and he couldn’t come back, not really. 

Not ever.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter to you. A friend requested a Gravity Falls fic and I’ve been having a lot of fun working on that in my spare time (coming here soon, in case any of you are fans of the show and BillDip) Anyway, it’s here now and things are happening! Hope you enjoy!

Kyle Broflovski had _not_ possessed Stan Marsh but the fact that he was invisible to all other eyes was good reason to believe he had. Nobody else could see who the apparently deranged noirette was talking to, nor that, when he charged around South Park, he wasn’t doing it alone. Stan, however, didn’t care that he was getting weird looks. He didn’t listen to the whispers that followed him. All he did was focus on the mission at hand and the fact that he didn’t have to do it alone because his ghost-boyfriend was right there with him all the way. 

“Have you put the – ”

“Yup,” Stan said, cutting the ghost off. They’d been warding South Park with Heavenly crystals supplied by the big place itself. They were meant to stop Damien’s army from being able to penetrate through. Of course, that didn’t help the rest of the world but Stan didn’t really give a damn about that right now. Sure, it worried him a little that people like Wendy and Jimmy were somewhere out there in that big world potentially in danger, but he had to focus on the people he _could_ save. There would be no more Ned’s. No more Kyle’s. Not on his watch. He might not be able to help the ones already dead but he could sure as hell help those they left behind: Jimbo, Mr and Mrs Broflovski, Ike, Cartman… _himself…_

“Great. I think that might be it, then,” Kyle said, smiling brightly. He didn’t look like a ghost but he didn’t look human either. There was something _otherworldly_ about him that he hadn’t had before. It made him look fucking gorgeous and had Stan struggling to concentrate on the job at hand rather than just staring at him. Kyle, for his credit, didn’t seem oblivious to the new hold he held over his living boyfriend. His small smile grew every time he caught the noirette staring and he seemed to thrive in doing innocent little gestures that he knew drove Stan wild: biting his lip, rubbing his neck, touching Stan’s wrist, bending rather than crouching each time he placed a crystal... 

“So what happens now?” Stan asked. He was quite pleased to be done. South Park wasn’t, by any means, a large town but it wasn’t small, either. Placing crystals around its boarder had taken the entire day and he was hot, achy and just wanted a beer. Or, that’s what he tried to tell himself. In reality, all he wanted was Kyle. 

“I guess we just wait for Damien to act.” The wards didn’t stop Damien from entering South Park, though they did prevent him from _leaving_. Kyle hadn’t actually shared what his orders were after the devil’s son was trapped in South Park and Stan hadn’t asked. A part of him wondered whether the Antichrist would meet his demise when he entered the town but another part of him was pretty sure that nobody in Heaven would think killing Damien was a good idea. Satan was a pretty decent guy, all things considered, but Stan doubted he would remain that way if his son was killed. 

“So, we don’t have to do anymore errands?” 

“Not yet,” Kyle said, smile growing. They had ended their journey through South Park at Stark’s Pond. At this time of day it was nice and quiet, the perfect place to stargaze and make out. 

“I’m so glad you have a physical body,” Stan said, taking Kyle’s hands in his. A part of him had wanted to pretend that Kyle wasn’t dead, to use this extra time together as some kind of unhealthy coping mechanism. However, he knew that if he did, when Kyle ultimately had to leave again it would break him and he had promised Kyle he would live on. Instead, he wasn’t pretending, not even to himself. He spoke openly about the fact that Kyle was dead and how that, when Damien was dealt with, he would be leaving forever. 

Yes, it was painful. It hurt like a mother-fucking bitch. A part of Stan just wanted to curl up and cry. He would not waste this precious extra time, though. Not everyone got extra hours with the person they loved, not everyone was as lucky as he. (Of course, not everyone had to deal with werewolves and the son of Satan trying to invade their town…) 

“Me too,” Kyle said softly, squeezing his fingers. 

They sat together in the slightly damp grass. The snow had melted recently, although there was sure to be more on its way. South Park was notorious for its mountain snow after all. They got maybe a month or two of summer each year if they were lucky. Stan didn’t mind the cold. He’d grown up with it. His teeth didn’t chatter but his fingers were growing a little numb thanks to the lack of their usual covering. Kyle, on the other hand, seemed to be reaping the benefits of being dead. He was remarkably warm which just gave Stan all the more reason to snuggle closer to him. 

Stan wasn’t sure when their lips got so close together. One minute his head was resting on Kyle’s shoulder, the next their lips were brushing, gently at first but quickly descending into the desperate kisses of people who knew they had limited time together. Stan’s dry lips softened under Kyle’s tongue. Kyle moaned against his mouth, his hands moving to grip at Stan’s coat as if his life depended on it. Stan held him equally fiercely, brushing his tongue with Kyle’s, nibbling on his lips, wishing it would never end. 

With their lips together, time seemed to halt entirely. The world around them vanished until it was just Stan and Kyle. Kyle and Stan. How it was meant to be, how it _should_ always be. 

When they finally paused for breath they rested their foreheads together, breathing heavily. Stan kissed the end of Kyle’s nose. “Do you even need to breath?” he found himself asking, retwining their hands together. 

“I don’t think so,” Kyle admitted. “But habits are hard to break.” 

“And that was some kiss.” It definitely explained why _he_ was panting so hard. 

“That it most certainly was.” 

“Wanna go for round two?” Stan made sure to keep his tone light, playful. He didn’t need to admit he wanted to get a lifetime of kisses in their short time together, even _if_ Kyle felt the same. 

“I always want to be kissing you,” Kyle said. They started to move, their noses brushing and their lips pouting in anticipation. 

As if God was purposely ruining their fun, Butters chose that moment to appear. 

“Stan! There you are! We’ve been worried about you.”

Stan groaned and glanced at Kyle who said, ‘He can’t see me,” and shrugged innocently as if to say ‘you’re on your own.’ 

“I’m fine, Butters,” he said, wishing him away. He had a gorgeous red head to kiss. 

“Gee, you’re obviously not _fine_ , Stan. Not after everything that – ”

“Yes, Butters, I’m aware of everything that has happened thanks!”

“Well, not everything…”

“Who else died?!” Stan’s eye’s widened and his attention was suddenly consumed by the blond, nervously twisting his fingers together in front of him. 

“Oh boy, none of us exactly but… Well, poor Tweek’s parents were murdered. It was rather horrible, really.” 

“Is Tweek okay?” Kyle asked quickly, then nudged Stan as he remembered Butters couldn’t hear him. Stan repeated the question. 

“Well, not really, no. But he’ll get there, that fella sure is strong. Oh, and he’s also Alpha wolf now. He killed Cole, you see.” 

“Jesus,” Stan said, eyes growing, if possible, wider. Apparently he’d missed a lot. He suddenly felt guilty for not being there for his friends as they went through it all. “Anything else?”

“Uh, well, Karen got kidnapped but Kenny managed to get her back. She was bitten, though. Oh, it’s okay!” he added quickly, seeing Stan’s wince. “I don’t really understand it or nothin’, but she’s not a werewolf. She just get’s a little stronger and angrier during the full moon, is all.” 

“Butters, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you all through everything.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, fella. You’ve had a lot on your plate. We’re not sore or nothin’. Um… Gee… I do have to ask, though? Are you possessed by Kyle right now?”

Kyle started laughing. “Possessed by Kyle?” Stan repeated blankly. 

“Well, Eric thought you might be thinkin’ about… bad stuff? You really shouldn’t, by the way! But he thought Kyle might possess you to stop you?”

“Kyle isn’t possessing me, Butters.” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. While their logic was sound, he couldn’t help be a little irritated at his friends assumptions. Mostly, he suspected, it was because he hated that they knew him so well and he hated that it was true. Seeming to sense his thoughts, Kyle squeezed his arm. Stan smiled at him, momentarily forgetting Butters was witnessing and would probably think him crazy. 

“Aw, okay then.” The blond seemed dejected. Stan was about to ask Kyle if he could let Butters see him, when they were joined by the rest of their friends. 

“We got your text,” Kenny said, giving Butters a quick peck on the cheek before turning to Stan. He looked him up and down silently for a moment, his lips pursed. Finally, he smiled softly. “You okay, dude?” He asked it in a way which suggested he knew Stan wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be. 

“Yeah, sure,” Stan said. Kenny nodded and held out an arm to pull him to his feet. Stan wanted to stay sitting snuggled up against Kyle and his unnatural warmth but they were no longer alone and nobody else could see the red head. It almost seemed like Kyle wanted it to remain that way. 

“Good to see you’re still breathing, fag,” Cartman said as Stan straightened up and brushed at the damp seeping into his pants. 

“You too, fatass,” Stan said, attempting a smile that came out more like a grimace. These were his friends; they were all there and they had all been worried about him. He needed to let them know that while he wasn’t fine, he would be, one day. 

“Stan,” Kyle said, nudging him. “You should tell them – ” Before the ghost could finish his sentence, however, a large ring of fire surrounded the area of Stark’s Pond. 

“What the – !” Craig whipped around, finding them trapped. 

“Too late,” Kyle said sadly. Stan had hoped they’d have more time, but perhaps Damien had cottoned on to Heaven’s plan and had decided to act quickly. 

“How lovely to see you all again,” Damien said, stepping out of the fire and strolling towards them as if he didn’t have a care in the world. They all tensed, ready for anything. With Damien there was no telling what they should expect. 

“Damien,” Kenny nodded, “I hope you’re here to tell us you’ve decided against your crazy little scheme.”

“Now, Kenny, _really._ Where would be the fun in that?” 

“You might have a hard time conquering anything without an army,” Stan said. 

“Ah, but I _have_ an army.”

“I don’t see one.” 

Damien frowned and turned around, seemingly surprised to see that nobody had followed him through the flames. Their plan had worked. Stan smiled brightly at Kyle, who looked more than a little relieved, as if he hadn’t actually expected the crystals to work. Stan was glad the redhead had chosen to keep that fear silent. 

“What the – ” Damien stormed back to the fire and placed his hand against it, like he was trying to pass through, only he couldn’t. “What have you done?” the demon demanded, turning his angry red gaze on Kyle, who winced. So Damien could see the ghost. It made sense, of course.

“Heaven won’t allow you to claim Earth,” Kyle said. 

“When my father hears about this – ” Because nobody apart from Stan could see who he was talking to, the rest of the observers seemed a little confused as they watched the son of Satan yell. 

“Satan was involved in the plan.” Damien narrowed his eyes dangerously. Like the fire than burned behind him, fire seemed to dance in his eyes. “You’re coming back to Heaven with me. They’ve made a suite for you, I’m sure you’ll be most comfortable.”

“Well then, I guess I’ve been bested.” 

Was it really that easy? Stan released a sigh of relief. He’d been worried but perhaps it could all finally be over. Of course, that did mean Kyle would be leaving and that was too painful to even think about. 

Damien had his head lowered, his face partly hidden by shadows. As they watched, his shoulders started shaking and, a moment later, he started audibly laughing. It started off as a quiet chuckle but grew into a loud cackle. The perfect evil laughter. 

“So, tell me. Did you _really_ think I wouldn’t predict my fathers betrayal? That man is _weak._ He doesn’t deserve to rule Hell. I’ll show him how it’s done, right here on Earth.”

“Y-yeah?!” Tweek spoke up. “There’s only one of you!” As soon as the words were out his mouth, the Alpha looked terrified that he’d said them at all. 

“I see the weakest of you became Alpha,” Damien said, shaking his head. “Such a shame. And while I could _easily_ wipe you all off the face of the planet single handedly, clearly I’m not alone. I have an army.”

“An army that can’t enter South Park!” Stan shot back. Damien cocked an eyebrow. 

“That so?” He clicked his fingers and from the fire an assortment of Hellish creatures emerged, until they were surrounded. Stan felt a shiver travel down his spine. He clenched his fists. “This is only a small portion of my army, of course, but it proves my point.”

“How?” Stan asked weakly. The crystals should have worked… Heaven had _promised_ that they would. 

“Well – and now this is the best part – I really couldn’t have done it without my commander-in-chief,” Damien said, a wicked smirk crossing his face. 

All eyes widened in horror as the commander-in-chief joined his master, coming to a stop by his side.

“You bastard-!” Stan yelled as Eric Cartman smirked and twisted a very familiar crystal between his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baaaaad Cartman. But really, you could probably see it coming. He wouldn’t be Eric Cartman otherwise.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it’s really obvious in the quality but I really struggled to write this chapter. It’s like I can see the light at the end of the tunnel but there’s a damn Saw-like obstacle course in front of it haha

“What did you do, fatass?!” Kenny demanded, fearlessly marching over to Damien and his traitorous ‘friend’. 

“Kenneh, _Kenneh_ , I simply went with the best offer. Can you blame a man for that?” His smile didn’t falter as he continued to twist the crystal Stan and Kyle had painstakingly spent their day placing between his cubby fingers. 

“You _asshole_! What about your promise to Kyle? How d’you think he’d feel about this dick move of yours, huh?!” 

Something flickered in Cartman’s brown eyes but it was gone before Kenny could pinpoint it as any kind of human emotion. “I guess we’ll never know. The Jew is dead, Kenneh. I can’t waste my time with the dead.”

“You complete and utter ASSHOLE!” A familiar voice raged. Kenny turned in surprise as Kyle barrelled past him, suddenly very visible to all his stunned friends, and smacked his fist into Cartman’s jaw, sending the larger man stumbling backwards. 

“Kyle?” Kenny was the first to speak, staring in disbelief at his dead friend who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“Hi, Kenny,” Kyle said, smiling awkwardly as he turned his back on Cartman and Damien, as if he had nothing to fear from them. He probably didn’t, seeing as he was dead already. Although, for somebody definitely dead, he looked very much alive. Kenny had to swallow back a sob. It was rare that he visited Heaven so he’d feared he might never see his Jewish friend again. 

“I’m sure this reunion is very nice and all, but we’re kind of in the middle of something,” Damien said, sounding bored. He side glanced at Cartman as the larger man rightened himself, rubbing his jaw. “Will there be a problem?” His eyes narrowed at his right hand man.

“Not at all,” Cartman said. “I can deal with the Jew.”

“Why are you doing this?” Kyle demanded, rounding back towards the brunet, the fire returning to his gaze. “Does having power really mean that much to you?”

“Power is everything, Kahl.”

“Why?” Kyle crossed his arms, challenging the man before him. 

Cartman frowned at the question. “Well, it… just _is_ , isn’t it?”

“ _Why_?” 

“Goddamnit, Jew!” Cartman snapped. He didn’t like being questioned, especially by someone he was struggling to look in the eye. 

“I thought you were better than this, Eric,” Kyle said. There was no venom in his voice. There was only disappointment, which as worse. Much worse. Without another word, Kyle turned his back on Cartman and, together with Kenny, walked back over to the rest of their friends. 

They faced off Damien as a group, ignoring the army that surrounded them. The were children of South Park after all; they’d seen it all before. Besides, Damien was little more than a spoiled teenager rebelling against daddy. And Cartman? They could handle Cartman. They’d done it before and they’d do it again. 

As long as they were together, they could do anything. 

They could send Damien and his army straight back to Hell. 

“Gah!!” Tweek jumped as something brushed against his arm, but it was just Clyde. The brunet grinned sheepishly, mouthing ‘sorry’. Okay, so maybe they weren’t all feeling as brave as they were trying to look. Tweek was feeling quite done with power thirsty bad guys if he were honest. He just wanted peace and quiet. He wanted to be able to mourn his parents, mourn the human life he no longer had and make up for lost time with Craig. Why couldn’t the universe give him a goddamn break? 

He hadn’t asked for any of this. He hadn’t _wanted_ any of it. The more he thought about that, the more it _pissed_ him off. His hands curled into fists and his shoulders tensed. 

Surprised, Clyde stared at the friend he’d stumbled against. He didn’t know whether he’d ignited the change in Tweek or not, but, suddenly, the twitchy blond seemed much larger, not necessarily in size but in presence. Was this the power of an Alpha wolf? It was quite cool and just a little scary. 

Craig, too, seemed to notice the change. “Tweek,” he hissed, from the corner of his mouth. “You okay?”

Tweek didn’t answer. Instead he stepped forward, his movement purposeful and calculated. “Cartman,” he said authoritatively. His voice didn’t quiver. His hands didn’t tremble. He was truly drawing from the Alpha power he held within. “Enough is enough. Stop this. I’m your Alpha and you _will_ listen to me.”

Cartman gulped, glancing between Damien and Tweek. He could feel the order of his Alpha compelling him but, before he could take more than a single step, Damien held up his hand and Cartman’s legs froze to the spot. It was a peculiar feeling, having two people fight for control over his body, and Cartman didn’t like it one damn bit. 

“Ay!” he snapped. “Nobody tells me what to Goddamn do, okay?!” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be such a douche and always make the wrong decision,” Kyle said. His fingers had woven together with Stan’s. Cartman teeth ground together almost audibly as he stared at their interlaced hands. 

“Screw you, Kahl,” he said. 

“As fun as this might be,” Damien said before anyone else could shoot an insult at Cartman, “we’re kind of working on a schedule here.”

“You can’t seriously think we’d allow you to do this?” Kenny stepped forward again, holding Butters hand until the last minute. When his fingers finally slipped free, the shorter blond’s hand flopped back to his side where it swung like a pendulum. 

“Of course not. It’s why I need you all out of the way.” 

The son of the Devil clicked his fingers and, from a random part of the circle of demons, a flaming spear soared through the air and straight through his body. Kenny’s gaze dropped to the gaping hole in his chest and then his legs gave way and he collapsed. 

Cries of shock and horror rung out amongst the friends but Butters was loudest of them all. “Kenny!” He started running towards the fallen man but Tweek grabbed his arm as he passed, drawing him back. “Let me go!”

Tweek didn’t. 

“We need to get out of here,” the Alpha said. They might not all be wolves, but they were all his pack – his _chosen_ pack – and he would let no harm come to any of them. 

“But Kenny – ” Stan was saying, but Kyle shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about Kenny,” the redhead said. “I’m with Tweek, we need to get out of here!” 

To those not in the know, they must have looked incredibly heartless. There was no time for that, though, and, nor did it matter. It’s not like they would remember watching their friend fall and die anyway.

“Um, guys, I hate to be the downer but we _are_ surrounded. How’d you propose we escape?” Token asked, frowning. He made a fair point. Damien’s army created an impenetrable circle around them, each brandishing formidable looking weapons that would slice and dice them like sushi. 

Clyde, who was already crying, started to sob harder. 

It didn’t look like they would be getting out of this mess. Even with two werewolves and a ghost on their side, they were still up against the son of Satan and his army of darkness. They were outnumbered, out-weaponed and certainly out-skilled. Already a man down, they simply didn’t stand a chance. They never had. 

Heaven had sent a cluster of kids against an army and they had, unsurprisingly, failed spectacularly. 

Huddled together in the centre of the circle of darkness, they waited for it to be over… 

They waited to die.


	44. Chapter 44

The ground rumbled. Startled, Tweek gave out a cry as the earth shifted beneath his feet. Now what?! It seemed as if everything was against them today, like the universe was bored and coming up with more and more ridiculous things to throw at them. 

Clyde grabbed his arm to steady him, and Tweek noticed the brunet eye’s still swam with tears. He glanced back to see Kenny still crumpled in a bloody heap and wondered whether it was their fallen friend or their dire situation that was causing him to tear up. It was probably both. Tweek put his own hand over Clyde’s and squeezed his fingers reassuringly. He wanted to say they were going to get out alive but, _Jesus Christ_ , it wasn’t looking likely!

With his other free hand, Tweek reached out and took Craig’s. They’d just managed to grasp fingers when the ground shook again, hard enough to send them all sprawling. Tweek lost his grip on Craig and toppled over, landing ungracefully atop of Clyde. 

Glancing around he saw that all his friends, and many of Damien’s army had been knocked to the floor. It seemed unlikely, then, that it was something they were doing. Especially seeming as Damien looked utterly furious. 

With one last mighty rumble, the ground burst open and from it emerged Satan and Kenny. 

“Kenny!” Stan yelled, relieved. The orange clad man waved but didn’t leave Satan’s side. Instead, his gaze sought out Butters and sent him a reassuring smile. Because of his unconventional early return to the surface, his body hadn’t vanished yet and neither had his friends memories. Judging from the haunted look on Butters face, that was a memory that was going to stick around for a long time. 

“Father,” Damien said coldly. He gave Kenny a look of disgust, as if he believed the blond had purposely been killed so that he could run and tattle to Satan. Kenny just shrugged, apparently unfazed by the death glare he was receiving. 

“Damien. Stop this.” Satan looked pretty fed up. He was obviously used to his son acting out. In that respect he was no different than any other parent. Then again, most other parents didn’t have to deal with their child trying to overthrow the entire world. Damien was nothing if not ambitious. 

“Why?” Damien sounded bored. He raised his hand to eye level and examined his nails, not even bothering to grace his father with his attention. 

What a spoiled brat. 

“God, we’ve talked about this!” Satan ran a frustrated hand over his horns. “You can’t just overthrow Earth because you’re bored.”

“You tried it before.”

“I was manipulated into it by a abusive boyfriend. There’s a difference, Damien.”

“The only difference I see is that I have ambition and you’re quite content being a loser for the rest of eternity.” 

Satan’s eyes flashed angrily.

“Don’t let him get away with being a brat,” Kenny said, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Go on, send him to his room.” 

“I will kill you again,” Damien said. 

“What’s the point? I’ll just come back. I’ll always come back and stop you.” 

“Damien.” Satan’s tone could have silenced shrieking babies. Even Jesus would have stopped in his tracks. Talking of Jesus, where was he anyway? Didn’t he usually show up in situations like this? Was he gathering the Super Best Friends? Or were they really on their own? 

For his credit, while Damien did close the mouth he’d open to say some rubbish or other with, he glared stubbornly at his father, his eyes remaining defiant. 

“You will return with me to Hell,” Satan said. 

“So I can be remembered as a failure like you? I don’t think so, father.” 

None of the young males present were sure how what happened next happened. Where did Damien get the flaming spear from? How did he move so quickly that Satan himself wasn’t able to react in time? 

All they could say for sure was that one moment Satan was standing tall, a formidable adversary and then, the next, he was on his knees, felled the very same way that Kenny had been only a few minutes before. 

“Jesus Christ!” Kyle cried out, eyes wide. 

“My son…” Satan said, his weak voice full of confusion and betrayal. 

“Sorry dad,” Damien said, not sounding remotely sorry. He clicked his fingers and a ball of flames consumed the king of darkness. When they finally died down, Satan was gone.

“You… killed him,” Stan said, voice barely audible. Damien laughed and shook his head. 

“It’ll take more than that to kill the devil.” He gave an easy shrug. “He’s going to be out of commission for a while, though. And damn pissed off. You might want to avoid Hell for a while. Oh, sorry, that might not be possible.” He smirked and, with a click, his army, still standing to attention, marched forward to form a stronger barrier around them, thoroughly locking them in. Tweek couldn’t help the cry that escaped his lips. At least Karen had headed home after they left the lab and was currently safe. Not that that would save her if Damien succeeded, which was, unfortunately, looking more and more likely. 

“Cartman,” Kyle said, turning his attention to the man still standing beside Damien. “You don’t have to be a part of this. You’re better than that.” 

Cartman did look a little uncomfortable at the turn of events. He’d grown a shade paler as he’d watched Satan brought to his knees, as if he only just realised what he’d gotten himself into. His brown eyes locked with Kyle’s green pair and he chewed his lip. 

“Better the devil you know,” Damien said, though he sounded so indifferent, as if he really couldn’t care less what Cartman decided to do. 

“ _Heh_ , yeah,” Cartman said, but his voice wavered a little. “Why the hell would I join the losing side, Jewboy?” 

Damien tilted his head. “Cartman,” he said. “I want you to prove your loyalty to me.” He clicked his fingers and another spear flamed into existence in his hand. He held it out and, with a shaky hand, Cartman accepted it. “I want you to pick one of your friends and I want you to kill them.”

“Kill?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? Or, are you not loyal?”

Cartman gulped. He looked between his friends; at Kyle whose face was pinched between fury and horror and at Stan who stood by his side, eyes wide in fear. At Token who held a sobbing Clyde’s hand. At Tweek who was twitching, his teeth clenched and at Craig who’s stoic expression was unreadable. Butters, whose eyes were wide and imploring and at Kenny who –

“Not Kenny,” Damien said. “He doesn’t count. Broflovski, too, seeing as you already killed _him_.”

“Don’t be a douche, Cartman,” Stan said, trying and failing to sound confident. He knew what Cartman was capable of after all. They all did. His words only seemed to succeed in sparking a fire in Cartman, however, who gripped his weapon tighter and narrowed his eyes as he once again looked over his ‘friends’. 

“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo,” Cartman said, looking slowly between his available targets. His voice cracked a little, revealing that he was not as confident as he was pretending to be. He was stubborn, though, and that in itself would probably be enough to drive him into committing such a terrible act. 

Craig tensed as Cartman’s gaze lingered on Tweek and the werewolf looked ready to pounce. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Any of you try anything and my army will kill you _all_ before you can so much as blink.”

Craig grit his teeth and clenched his fists but otherwise didn’t move. 

Cartman’s gaze moved back to Stan and Kyle stiffened. “Cartman,” he said, his tone almost begging. 

“Why _shouldn’t_ I kill Stan?” Cartman asked. “He stole you from me.”

“He didn’t steal me,” Kyle said, clutching Stan’s hand tightly. Stan himself was looking very pale. “I _chose_ him. When I look at you now – the alternative – I am so certain I made the right choice.” 

Cartman’s fist tightened on his weapon and, for a horrible moment, it really looked as if he was ready to use it. Then, surprising everyone, his grip loosened and the spear fell to the ground.

“How disappointing,” Damien said. He caught the eye of one of his soldiers and nodded.

An intricate spear was suddenly sailing through the air. Tweek’s eyes widened as he realised it was heading straight for him. He managed to tear his eyes away from the flying weapon to lock eyes with Craig but everything was happening too fast for him to even consider doing much else. 

And then he was ungracefully stumbling to the ground. Feeling winded, he felt his body for the protruding weapon only to find none. Why wasn’t it impaling him? He hadn’t somehow tripped over his own feet before it could hit him, had he?

“NO!” Token’s cry was so startling it brought Tweek upright, his eyes frantically searching. 

Clyde stood where he had been moments before, his eyes wide, his lips bloody and mouthing something silently. 

His hands were lightly clasped around the blood splattered stick that protruded from his body.

Even as Clyde’s legs gave way and his knee’s hit the grass with a heavy thud, Tweek was scrambling over to him, barely able to see through the tears welling up in eyes. He was vaguely aware of Craig and Token reaching Clyde at the same time as him but it was almost as if it were happening to someone else and Tweek was just listening to a retelling. Everything was hazy, his mind a muddle of heartbroken screams and silent numbness. 

“Clyde,” he managed to gulp out between sobs. 

Clyde’s head was resting in Token’s lap. His eyes swivelled around, trying to find Tweek through the darkness consuming his vision. 

“Why did you do that, idiot?” Craig asked, his usual monotone cracking with emotion. “It should have been me.”

The others had gathered around now, all teary eyed as they watched their friend gasp for breaths he couldn’t find. He looked like he was trying to answer Craig’s question but all he managed was to gurgle up blood. 

None of them paid any heed to the army brandishing weapons around them. They could have all been struck down and not one of them would have noticed the attack happening until they joined Clyde, dying on the ground. 

Even Cartman, who stood well back, eyes wide with horror, seemed unable to notice anything but the blood pooling out of Clyde’s trembling body. 

Taking advantage of this, Damien clicked his fingers and the army raised their weapons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I am determined to make sure that anyone who might have forgiven me for Kyle hates me again before I complete this fic (ಥ﹏ಥ)
> 
> I’ve known Clyde’s fate for quite a while now. I had a moment where I considered changing it to Stan but, ultimately, that would be too kind. Stan would be quite happy to die and join Kyle in Heaven and I am an evil God who likes to make everyone suffer. 
> 
> Clyde is a precious bean, and precious beans must be cruelly murdered. Or protected at all cost. I always get those two confused...


	45. Chapter 45

No. 

No. No. No. **No.**

It couldn’t be possible. His mind had to be playing tricks on him; it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. He had an overactive imagination. He saw things that weren’t real. He sometimes struggled to tell the difference between reality and illusions. 

But his hands were slick with blood and the eyes that stared back at him were glassy and unseeing. He hadn’t even noticed when Clyde had taken his last breath. He’d been alive one minute and dead the next. A tear was working its way down his cold face but Tweek couldn’t be sure whether it was the last one Clyde had ever cried or one of the tears pooling from his own eyes.

This couldn’t be possible. 

It was wrong. It had to be. It just had –

“-Tweek!” It was Craig, trying to tug him up. There was urgency in his voice but Tweek ignored him, refusing to budge. He had to look after Clyde. He had to be there for when Clyde woke up, because he _had_ to wake up. He just had to. 

“Tweekers,” Kenny said, crouching down to Tweek’s level. His eyes were red-rimmed and he purposely avoided looking at the body Tweek cradled. “You have to get up, sweetie. You can help Clyde later, but right now you need to stand.”

There was noise in the background. Cries and yells that Tweek’s confused mind couldn’t work out. 

It didn’t matter though. None of it mattered. 

An anger soared through Tweek. That son of a bitch – 

He could already feel the effects of the full moon taking its hold over him. It wouldn’t be much longer until the change occurred. Once he was a wolf he would rip Damien’s goddamn Adam’s apple out of his throat and eat it. 

“Guys!” Stan’s cry of distress hit him like a punch in the face. Tweek moved his gaze from Kenny to look around. His friends were fighting back Damien’s army but they weren’t doing so very successfully. Nobody else had died – thank God – but they weren’t in great shape. They were in trouble. The only reason they weren’t dead already was clearly because Damien wanted to prolong their suffering. 

Gently manoeuvring Clyde’s head from his lap, Tweek stood up, eyes full of thunder. The ravaging storms in his eyes sought out Damien and honed in. The son of Satan stood casually, as if he had no cares in the world. He watched the chaos around him with a small smile on his lips, clearly enjoying watching all Tweek’s friends fight and die around him. 

But, unlike with Cole, this wasn’t about Tweek. It wasn’t about Craig or even Kenny. This was about a screwed up, entitled teenage demon rebelling against his father. And _damn_ , that just pissed Tweek off. 

Clyde had died for absolutely nothing. Nothing but the whims of a spoilt brat. 

The sky was growing darker around them as he marched towards Damien. He ignored Kenny and Craig’s yells of his name. They couldn’t help him. Nobody could help. If they didn’t stop Damien and his entire army, they would all be dead soon, and then the rest of the world would follow. 

This meant there was absolutely nothing to lose. 

“Hey, asshole!” Tweek cried, his voice a little shrill. Damien’s smile dropped as he locked eyes with Tweek. 

“Well if it isn’t the Alpha. You gonna change and rip me to shreds?”

“Yes,” Tweek said. He clenched his fists to stop the tremble in his hands. Oh Jesus Christ, what the hell was he doing?!

Damien snorted. The fact that he wasn’t even worried despite there being three werewolves, one of which was an Alpha, about to transform, showed that he was either incredibly cocky or he simply knew, without a doubt, that they wouldn’t be able to do that much damage. Tweek hoped it was the former because if they couldn’t beat Damien in their wolf form then what chance did they stand? 

They would all be following Clyde to the grave. 

Was that such a bad thing, really? Everyone was dying around them. His parents were gone, Kyle was dead and now Clyde, too. There was a good chance more people Tweek cared about would die before the night was up. Tweek wasn’t sure he wanted to survive that. What would be the point in living on if everyone he cared about was dead? 

Then again, if he gave up now there would be absolutely no chance of stopping that from happening. If he continued to fight, who knows? Maybe they _could_ win. 

It was impossible odds but Tweek had to take them. He couldn’t let anyone else die. 

He momentarily tore his eyes away from Damien. 

Token had found a spear somewhere and was fighting, his eyes damp with tears and his teeth gritted with fury. Clyde had been his best friend. The fact that Token was still fighting instead of giving up and accepting his inevitable fate of joining Clyde showed strength. Something bubbled up inside of Tweek. 

He moved his gaze on.

Butters was on the floor, a monster closing in on him as he scrambled backwards. Before a fatal blow could be had, Kenny appeared like a knight in shining armour. He jumped onto the demons back, driving a small blade into the creatures neck. It didn’t fell the beast but it certainly pissed it off enough for Butters to jump to his feet and rush at it. 

Stan and Kyle were back to back, both brandishing bloody weapons they’d managed to claim. Their faces were set in determination. They would fight together until the very end. 

Tweek was surprised to see that Cartman was fighting on their side, too. He used his larger body to his advantage, picking up demons and tossing them into others like he was playing a game of ten pin bowling. 

And then their was Craig. Craig was fighting off two demons who looked as if they had been rushing towards Clyde. Tweek had never seen such fury in the noirette’s eyes before. He looked positively murderous. And yet, he was fighting to save those he loved – even those who had fallen – and in that moment, Tweek couldn’t have loved him more. 

They had an unconventional love story and one filled with more heartbreak than not, but, despite all that, Craig Tucker was his everything and, if he couldn’t fight and attempt to live for his own sake, then he could for Craig. He could be strong for Craig. He _would_ be strong for Craig. 

When Tweek turned back to face Damien, his eyes were glowing alpha red. 

For the first time, the son of Satan actually looked a little worried. 

“You – _Rrrr_ – killed Clyde.” 

Tweek charged at him. 

 

Meanwhile, at the Hall of Super Best Friends…

“Buddha, you can’t keep denying the existence of evil when this is happening right in front of your eyes.”

“He’s just misunderstood, Seamen.”

“It’s Sea _Man_!” The blond snapped back, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“That’s what I said. Seamen.” 

Around them, the other Super Best Friends laughed. 

“Laugh away,” Seaman grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s not like we’ve got bigger problems.”

“Seamen is right,” Jesus said, to a small amount of sniggering and a glare from his blond super best friend. “South Park is once again under attack by great evil.”

“Funny how it’s always South Park,” Joseph Smith said. 

“Yeah. D’you think it’s ‘cus you live there?” Buddha asked. “Maybe you should move.”

“It’s not because of me,” Jesus said, frowning. “At least, I don’t _think_ it is.” 

“That’s not really important right now,” Mohammad said.

Nodding in agreement, Krishna added “Yes, let’s just focus on stopping Damien.”

“Maybe my ice breath will take care of him?” Joseph Smith suggested.

“No, we don’t want to kill the child, Joseph,” Lao Tse said, shaking his head towards the Mormon prophet. 

“Why not?” 

“Um,” Moses cut in, “because, um, then we would have to deal with Satan? And, ah, that would be a problem?”

“Moses is right, guys,” Jesus said. “My dad and Satan have an agreement and things are pretty good between Heaven and Hell right now. We can’t risk that alliance breaking by hurting Satan’s son.”

“But didn’t Damien stab Satan?” Seaman asked. 

“Perhaps that will strengthen their relationship,” Buddha said, leaning back in his chair casually. 

“Your positive attitude really pisses me off sometimes,” Jesus mumbled. 

“Please don’t tell me you relate to Damien because you have daddy issues, too?” Krishna asked, folding his blue arms in front of him. 

“I don’t have daddy issues!”

“No?” 

“No! _God!_ This isn’t about me anyway. Can we just figure out what to do about Damien?”

“Of course. Moses, give us an update,” Mohammad said, turning to face the giant, dreidel shaped prophet. 

“Mwaaaaaah,” Moses hummed, closing his eyes. “Um, it is, um, not going too well.”

“What’s happened? Have the children failed?”

“You could, um, say that?”

“I told you we shouldn’t send children to do a superheroes job!” Seaman snapped.

“Enough, Seamen! Moses, are they okay?” Jesus was on his feet now. He’d had doubts when God had sent the Jewish boy down from Heaven to help defeat Damien but he had trusted in his father and the plan he must have had. Now, he was regretting that trust. 

“Um, one of them has fallen. The others are, um, struggling?” 

“Oh Jesus Christ!” Jesus said, sounding pained. He rubbed at his forehead, massaging his temples. “Okay, Moses, put me through to Satan.” 

The rest of the Super Best Friends shouted out their protests but Jesus ignored them. Lives were at stake. If taking to Satan could help then damn straight he would talk to Satan! 

When Satan’s image appeared in the room, it was of him tucked up in a large pink bed with bandages wrapped around his abdomen. 

“Jesus,” he said. 

“Satan.” Jesus nodded. Formalities over and done with, he got straight down to business. “How do we stop Damien? He’s killed a child, Satan, he must be stopped.”

“Don’t you think I know that?! Shit, I tried to do it myself but he caught me unawares. I’m too weak to return to the surface right now.”

“You must have some ideas, though! He’s your son.” 

“I have one. Fuck, I can’t guarantee it’ll work, though.”

“Well, it’s all we’ve got right now. Tell us your plan.”


	46. Chapter 46

Hidden behind thick clouds, the full moon seemed to be tormenting them, whispering tantalising promises that the change would come if only they’d wait just a little while longer. 

Just a little while longer was no good, though. 

Tweek was pinned down, Damien’s knee crushing against his chest, making it hard to breathe, let alone continue to thrash around in a futile attempt to break free. He was vaguely aware of Craig calling his name, but the noirette couldn’t reach him, couldn’t _help_ him. Tweek had gotten himself into this mess and he would have to get himself out. 

The problem was, that was looking about as likely as Tweek ever giving up coffee. 

_No_ chance in Hell. 

Thinking of coffee… it had been far too long since Tweek had last sipped any of the delectable caffeine hit of a drink. It was funny what thoughts occurred to a dying person. Tweek wondered whether he was unusual in his trivial last thoughts or whether nobody actually had their life flash before their eyes or thought of their loved ones like the books claimed. How depressing would it be if most people’s dying thoughts were along the lines of ‘Shit, I still haven’t paid that bill’ or ‘Damn, I forgot to post Susan’s birthday card.’ 

If crushing his ribs wasn’t enough, the son of Satan had his hands around Tweek’s throat now, too. Tweek had always had a scrawny neck but he was surprised by how Damien’s fingers curled around it’s entire width, pushing down, squeezing the air from him. 

He was dying. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been close to death. Even before Craig returned into his life and everything suddenly became a whole lot more dangerous, he’d taken his own life into his hands on multiple occasions. 

Kenny and Clyde had always been the ones to look out for him after he swallowed all those pills. And now Clyde was gone forever and Tweek had never even got the chance to thank him for all he’d done over the years. 

_Well, I guess I’ll be where he is soon…_

His body jolted. Pain erupted in his chest as the spasm drove him further into Damien’s knee. 

The change was trying to claim him, but his failing body was fighting it, too busy trying to survive to transform into a monster. Because _of course_ his stupid body wouldn’t think about how transforming into a werewolf could actually be the one thing that saved his life right now. 

Around him, Tweek was vaguely aware of noises that suggested his fellow pack members were experiencing the same as he right now. Except they had no knee crushing their chest nor hands restricting air to their lungs to stop them changing. 

They would be able to save themselves. 

But then they wouldn’t stop. They’d kill, and it wouldn’t matter whether it was friend or foe. Without their Alpha to stop them, they would kill all humans present. 

Token. Butters. Stan. Kenny. Perhaps even Kyle, although Tweek wasn’t sure how the whole ghost thing worked. 

They were all in danger. 

Tweek closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. It was impossible, of course. His brain was screaming for oxygen and his body thrashed in an attempt to get it for it. 

He had to let the change claim him. It wasn’t only his life on the line right now. 

Gasping for breath he couldn’t find, Tweek opened his eyes again, feebly clawing at the hands at his throat. Everything was growing dark. He was fading and apparently just being desperate to save everyone wasn’t enough. _Willpower_ wasn’t enough. 

He was really going to die. 

And then Damien was ripped from him. 

Tweek lay gasping, unable to move as his body accustomed to being able to behave as it was intended. It didn’t allow him much reprieve, though, as, finally able to breath, his body decided that was good enough for it to be able to start the transformation from human to wolf. 

As the familiar pain ravaged him, Tweek let his head swivel to the side in hopes of catching a glimpse of his saviour. 

He thought he saw a wolf atop of Damien but his vision was still blurry and agony was fast rippling through his body as his bones snapped and reformed, twisting his body from man to monster. Tweek let the pain swallow him whole, trying not to pay attention to his bloodied, discarded flesh. 

It was over quickly and yet, for Tweek, aware the whole while, it felt like an eternity. 

When he was finally fully transformed, he found his paws. His ribs protested but, as an animal, it was easier to ignore the pain. He instead focused his attention on what was going on around him. 

The tables had turned drastically now that Cartman and Craig had transformed into wolves. Their sole focus was currently on Damien’s army, though Tweek expected that was only because the army was attacking them and his human friends were staying well back. 

Nobody else had died, although they nursed painful injuries as they huddled around their fallen friend, equal looks of terror on their faces as if they were certain that if the demons didn’t get them, then the wolves would. 

The stench of blood was thick in the air. 

Tweek turned away from his friends gathered around Clyde. He sought out Damien. An unfamiliar wolf was atop of him, growling furiously as the son of Satan tried to hold her gnashing jaw away from his face. 

Somehow Tweek knew who she was. 

Lizzie. 

The girl who murdered his parents. 

She must have tackled Damien mid transformation. Or, perhaps, that was just how loyalty to the pack leader worked. Maybe even as a wolf she’d known that her Alpha needed her. 

The thought made Tweek feel sick. 

He hated that such a despicable person had saved his life. He didn’t want to owe a debt of gratitude to the monster that killed his mom and dad. 

For a sick moment he hopped Damien would get the better of her and snap her neck. 

Did that make him evil?

Lizzie snapped at Damien and Tweek came back to his senses. Sure, she was an awful person and he certainly wouldn’t mourn her if she died but he was already responsible for Cole’s death. He didn’t want any more blood on his hands, especially as he already felt responsible for his parents, Kyle and Clyde too. 

On paws he padded over to them. 

Tweek wasn’t really sure how he was meant to communicate as a wolf. He experimented with a small growl, which caught Lizzie’s attention. Her golden eyes fixed on him, waiting, expectant. 

This time, when Tweek tried again, he imagined he was speaking like a human. He pictured telling her to get off of Damien. For a moment he was convinced he had failed miserably for she didn’t move. She just stared at him. 

When he was about to start panicking (how the hell was he meant to lead a pack of werewolves anyway?! He wasn’t cut out for this, man!) she stepped backwards and sat down like an obedient dog. 

Damien exhaled loudly and went to sit up. Knowing that allowing that would be a huge mistake, Tweek quickly took Lizzie’s former place, emitting a low, rumbling growl of warning to the son of the devil. 

“You know if you kill me I’ll just go right back to Hell, right? Where else would I go?” Damien said, but he didn’t sound too convinced. Unbeknownst to Tweek, he was wondering whether he would follow the same rules as humans or as demons. Human’s just respawned in Hell if killed, as Damien had learned back when he was eight and his father was having boyfriend issues with Saddam and Chris. Demons and the likes, however, once dead, were gone forever. 

Tweek, of course, didn’t answer. Not in a way Damien could understand, anyway. He gave another low growl for good measure, though. 

“Do it, Tweek.” Tweek stiffened as the voice came from behind him. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Token. There was an edge to his voice Tweek had never heard before. “Do it for Clyde.” 

He was right. Damien was responsible for Clyde’s death. Clyde, his best friend. Clyde, the boy who’d helped keep him alive and somewhat functional for years. Clyde who had given his life to save Tweek’s. 

His soft growl deepened. With teeth like he currently possessed, it would be so easy to rip out Damien’s throat. The awareness he got from being Alpha didn’t extend to making him feel physically sick at the idea of that; clearly there was enough animal instincts present. 

Damien deserved it. 

And the fact that Token Black, of all people, was egging him on…?

He focused his attention on Damien’s neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously, his eyes frantically trying to scan their surroundings, probably wondering why nobody had tried to save him yet. His army was still busy with Cartman and Craig, though. They wouldn’t be coming to his rescue anytime soon. 

He could do it. 

He’d ended Cole’s life and he could end Damien’s too. He could save everyone. 

With another throaty growl, Tweek lurched –

“-Stop! My child, please, stop!” 

Tweek pulled back and he and Damien both turned their heads to look at Jesus Christ, looking a little windswept and frantic. 

Goddamnit! He couldn’t kill anyone in front of Jesus, not even the son of Satan. 

Tweek pulled away. 

“Jesus?” Stan asked, coming over. 

“Hello Stan. I’m sorry I arrived so late.” Jesus’ gaze flickered to Clyde and then dropped again, a guilty sadness in his eyes. “It seems you children have had a hard time of it recently. I apologise profoundly. I wish I could have gotten here sooner.”

“Why did you tell Tweek to stop?” Token demanded, that same edge to his voice as before. Jesus looked at him, surprised, as if he couldn’t quite understand why the question was being asked at all.

“He is the son of Satan, my child. If you kill him, you will be starting a war we cannot win.” 

Oh Jesus Christ! Tweek hadn’t considered the repercussions of killing Damien. If Jesus had arrived a minute later, Tweek might have been the cause of a war that destroyed the world as they knew it. That was way too much pressure! 

He backed away from Damien as if even being in close proximity could cause unforeseen damages.

“Damien,” Jesus said. “You must call off your army.” 

It was only then that Tweek noticed Jesus’ arrival had not stopped his pack fighting against the demons. The wolves were holding their own surprisingly well.

“And why would I do that?” Damien asked, pulling himself upright and dusting his jacket. He didn’t quite manage the calm, indifferent tone he was seemingly going for. Apparently his brush with death had successfully shaken him. 

“Because, as we speak, our fathers are discussing the relocation of a certain someone who is special to you.”

“There is nobody special to me,” Damien said. 

It was Kenny who spoke up this time. “Now that’s a big goddamn lie if I’ve ever heard one – sorry, Jesus.” Apparently Kenny had cottoned on to what Jesus was implying. At least somebody knew what in fresh hell was going on, because Tweek had no clue. 

Damien faltered a little, not enjoying being called out on his bullshit.

“They wouldn’t dare,” Damien decided finally. 

“I assure you they would. They might reconsider, if you stop behaving like a spoilt brat,” Jesus said. “So tell me, Damien Thorn. What’s more important to you? Pip Pirrip or world domination?” 

Jesus crossed his arms and stared down the son of Satan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s been leaving comments and kudos, ILY <3 
> 
> 2 chapters left. I can do this...


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Last month was hectic and my Halloween fic took up most of my writing time. 
> 
> I hope this is acceptable (I hate it, but when do I not hate my updates xD)
> 
> I’ll try get the epilogue out asap but I need to update two other neglected fics first. Soon, though, I promise! :)

Could it really be that easy? After all they had suffered, it didn’t seem fair for it all to be resolved by Jesus Christ showing up at the last minute with a few choice words. After all, where had Jesus been when Cole had been terrorising them? Where had he been for ninety percent of Damien’s plague of horror? Could he really just show up at the last five minutes and be the hero? 

Then again, did any of _them_ want to be the hero instead? Tweek sure as hell didn’t. He just wanted it over. Even if that meant Jesus took all the glory. These past few months had been a nightmare that he couldn’t wake from. And man, was he ready to wake up. 

Before Craig had returned, he’d been a mess. He knew that now. He fully understood how he’d let himself go down the gutter. He’d been a feeble, useless mess of a human, one that had, embarrassingly, needed Kenny and Clyde to look after him like he was their infant child. As horrible as everything that had happened recently was, it had forced him to be a stronger person. So there was that. 

But was it worth it? Worth Kyle’s life? With Clyde’s? His parents too. Tweek would take hiding, terrified, in a cupboard any day if it meant they could be given their lives back. 

If only that were an option. 

True, it wasn’t _all_ on Damien. Cole had set the wheels in motion. Cole had been the first to destroy the group of friends so thoroughly. Damien had simply decided to ride Cole’s wave of terror, only coming into their lives after the former alpha had turned everything upside down. 

Jesus was right. The whole situation screamed spoiled brat not getting his way. Tweek had never had the luxury to behave like that but he’d seen it amongst some of his peers, namely, Cartman. 

Even in his wolf form, with his bristling pack behind him, Tweek thought it was pretty fucked up. It pissed him off. 

He was almost tempted to maul the demonic man-child to an inch of his life. 

“Let me get this right,” Damien said slowly. “You think I care _enough_ about Pip Pirrip that I would throw my plans away to keep him by my side?”

Jesus faltered. It was obvious that this was his only play. If Damien refused, then all hell would break lose (quite literally). 

Tweek couldn’t risk any more deaths. There had been too many already.

Problem was, he was currently a wolf and couldn’t speak. 

He did the next best thing. Plodding over to Kenny, he pushed his nose against the blonds hand like a dog who wanted attention might. 

“What is it, Tweekers?” Kenny asked, unbothered by his friends monstrous form. Besides him, Butters flinched a little, not quite as chilled out by the bizarre situation as his boyfriend. 

Tweek dug at the ground a little and then looked back up at Kenny. He repeated the action again for good measure. 

Kenny frowned, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out what Tweek was getting at. 

Look down, dig, look up. 

Repeat. 

Realisation crossed Kenny’s mind and Tweek was thankful that Kenny had always been very good at reading him. Apparently that didn’t change with Tweek’s non-human form.

“We need to bring Pip here,” he announced. “If you chose power over him, you need to tell him that to his face, Damien.” 

Damien glared. “What a hassle,” he said, annoyed. Tweek glanced at Kenny, worried that the antichrists indifference meant he really didn’t care for Pip, but Kenny didn’t look worried. He was eyeing Damien like he could see right through him. 

“Good thinking, my child,” Jesus said, obviously not experiencing the same fear as Tweek. 

“Or, you know, I could just kill you all,” Damien suggested.

“You won’t lay a finger against us,” Jesus said confidently. Damien glared but the son of God was right, Damien didn’t do anything. Maybe the threat did have him worried, after all. Satisfied, Jesus lifted his wrist to his mouth and spoke into the smart watch attached to it. 

“Jesus to Moses,” he said. “We need to bring the British boy to the surface, can you ask Satan to sort that?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Moses reply came through. 

For a moment nothing happened and then suddenly a ball of flames appeared and, when it vanished it left behind a tall, blond boy.

“Oh, Damien,” he said, exasperated. “Just _what_ have you been up to?” 

“Wait, you don’t know?!” Stan asked, his eyebrows practically vanishing into his black hair in disbelief. 

Tweek wondered what it said about their lives that Stan was surprised by Pip’s words but not by how somebody who’d died at eight years old had aged and suddenly appeared in front of them years later. 

They really did have screwed up lives… 

“I certainly don’t,” Pip said. “Damien told me he was going to have a little chin waggle with friends. I never expected _this_ – ” 

“Really, dude?” Kyle did not look convinced.

“Well, okay, maybe he _discussed_ it with me,” Pip said sheepishly. 

“I assume you were present when he tried to recruit Cartman,” Kenny said. 

“Yes, well…” Pip looked rather flustered by now, struggling to break free of the web of lies he’d trapped himself in. “The point is,” he all but squealed, “I rather did not think that he would follow through with it all. I had been trying to discreetly sway him.”

Damien half scowled, though his eyes twinkled in amusement. “Discreet is not the word I’d use. Why do you think I left you behind? I thought you’d cause less trouble down there, not _more._ ” 

“Sorry dear chap.” Pip looked down at the ground, his eyes a little watery, like he might cry. 

“He’s still a real dweeb,” Kyle muttered to Stan. Damien’s red eyes flashed dangerously but before he could smite the ghost, Kenny stepped in front of the pair.

“Nobody else is getting hurt today.” If a stranger had ambled by at that precise moment they might have wondered which boy was the son of Satan, for Kenny’s tone held such vicious authority that it would make one pause for thought. 

Despite his tone, Kenny had always been more an angel than demon, though. 

The blond peered over his shoulder at his two best friends and, past them, at Token who was still by Clyde. He then turned his attention to the four wolves (one of whom he really hoped wasn’t his sister, for it certainly seemed slightly more feminine; smaller and lighter in colour than Tweek, Craig and Cartman.) 

“I concur,” Jesus said, drawing Kenny’s gaze back away from the wolves. “Damien, my child, please consider this situation carefully. This war will not end in your favour and you will only end up banished in Hell with no means to return to the surface.”

“I’m unconvinced. My army is greater than yours.”

“My father will create an army if he needs too. Unfortunately Saddam Hussein taught the Mormons a lot about war before we banished him to a far corner of Heaven.”

Stan snorted, despite the bleak situation. “Is that true?”

“It is. It’s crazy dude! They’re all super nice and Mormony but then they’re all ready to jump into battle at any given moment,” Kyle said. 

“Are their a lot of Mormons in Heaven?”

“All Mormon’s go to Heaven,” Kenny said. “It’s only in the last few years that they’ve let others in.” 

“Ironically so that Heaven could build its own army,” Jesus said, with a deflated sigh. “It saddens me that all life revolves around war.” 

“War is what makes things exciting,” Damien said. 

Tweek stared between the humans in disbelief. We’re they really just standing around having a casual conversation about war right now? Weren’t there more important matters at hand, like whether or not Earth was in danger and whether Clyde was going to get any damn justice?! He wanted to scream and tear at his hair. He settled for howling. 

Kenny glanced at him, tilting his head. Once again he seemed to decipher what the werewolf was trying to communicate. 

“Tweek’s right. This is frustrating. Damien, I know you’re not a bad guy. Well, I’m doubting that a little in wake of Clyde but I know you can be better than all this. Just walk away. Take Pip’s hand and go back to Hell and this can all be over. There doesn’t need to be war or even discussion of war. It can just be over. Let’s let it be over.” 

“Kenneth is right, Damien,” Pip said. “Do you really want to be going along making enemies out of friends? And I do not think they are bluffing about sending me away, either. You wouldn’t really let me be dragged away from my home, would you?” Whether the British boy was being manipulative or honest wasn’t clear but, either way, it seemed to be doing the trick. Damien’s thick eyebrows drew together and he sighed. He clearly wasn’t happy about the situation, but he wasn’t fighting it either. He seemed to be considering his options. He was being rather diplomatic. 

“Why do you even want total power?” Kenny asked, still desperately pushing the subject. He was being surprisingly calm considering he was talking to the man who had murdered one of his friends but that was quite likely simply because he knew behaving any other way would likely resolve in more deaths. “No offence, Damien, but you’re a little lazy. You’re always lounging about when I visit Hell.” Kenny ignored the confusion that flickered across Stan’s face at his comment. Stan, Token and Butters were pretty much the only three out of the loop about his curse now, seeing as they were the only living human’s left in a otherwise cluster of supernatural beings. 

Surprisingly, Damien didn’t seem to resent being called out on his laziness. He just shrugged. “I’m the Anti Christ. The son of Satan. I deserve recognition for that.”

“For being born?” Kyle frowned.

“Yes,” Damien snapped back, eyes narrowing. 

Kyle looked like he wanted to snap something back but Stan nudged him in the ribs. Not that it mattered a whole lot; what could Damien do? Kill him? He was already dead. 

“You’ll get to take over Hell eventually, right?” Token spoke up for the first time, surprising them all. Nobody had thought he was even listening. 

His eyes were red but otherwise he seemed almost his usual pragmatic self. 

“My father plans to retire eventually,” Damien said. 

“Well why not have fun for now and deal with responsibility when that day comes?” 

If anyone would want revenge on Damien it would surely be Token. He had been Clyde’s best friend. He had given up his dream of college for Tweek, yes, but mostly for Clyde, who refused to leave the twitchy blond alone. 

And yet, here he stood, calmly talking to Clyde’s murderer without any hint of vengeance on his mind. Either he had a good poker face or he was pushing his feelings aside for the sake of survival. 

“You’re immortal, right?” Token continued. “So time means nothing to you, really.” There was a glint in his eyes that revealed just how much he wanted to throw away sense and beat the crap out of Damien but he was fighting it well. He knew when he was beat and where his talent best lie. He wasn’t a fighter so much as a influencer. He was calm and collect and good with words. And that was how he was going to stop Damien. 

“Having that power isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You might think you want to rule the world but I guarantee that in a few months you’ll be wishing you were back in your carefree existence. Have you ever asked your father about what it’s like to be in change of a large body of people? Have you discussed the politics? It isn’t all just chaos and destruction. You need systems and rules. You need to keep up with everything that’s going on. You need strategy. Do you have a strategy, Damien?”

It was obvious that Damien didn’t have a strategy. 

“You can’t just do these things on a whim. What happens when you take over, make all humans quake in fear at your very name and then get bored? What happens when somebody tries to overthrow you? What happens when all humans die because of the conditions you’ve forced them into? Then who will you rule? Do you think Satan will be happy for you just to go back down to Hell?”

Jesus, he was good. Even the wolves had stopped to pay attention to him, Tweek no longer having to concentrate to stop them trying to eat their friends. 

Damien sighed loudly. “Way to kill my buzz,” he said. 

“It’s a lot of work.” Token was trying hard to keep his voice casual but Tweek could smell the blood from where his fingernails had broken flesh in his scrunched up palms. 

“I could use someone like you, kid.” Damien was the same age as Token and the other man didn’t seem to appreciate being referred to as a kid. His teeth ground together. 

“Well keep looking because I’m not interested.” 

Damien cocked his head curiously but didn’t say anything. 

After a long minute he sighed. 

“Come Pip, let’s go home.” 

Pip nodded and cast a quick, apologetic look at the worse for wear teenagers standing around him. Damien didn’t seem to notice, or care. 

And, just like that, Damien and Pip vanished in a puff of fire. Seconds later, Damien’s army followed suit. 

And it was over. 

Token stood still for a moment, his clenched fists shaking by his side, and then he strode back over to his fallen friend. Once on his knees, he looked at Clyde for a long moment and then punched the ground by his knees, yelling angrily into the sky. 

Butters hurried over to him, stopping him from attacking the ground once again. 

Kenny, Stan and Kyle turned to Jesus. 

“What now?” Stan asked. 

“Now you have to figure out a way to keep going on, my children. I’m sorry that you’ve suffered so greatly along the way.” He laid a hand on Stan’s shoulder and smiled weakly at him, before turning his attention to the red head besides him. “I’m afraid, Kyle, that you must return to Heaven.”

Kyle nodded. “I will,” he promised, “but I just need a little longer.”

“My father wouldn’t approve,” Jesus said and Kyle opened his mouth to protest. “But I am not my father. I think we owe you that much. Don’t take too long, my child.”

With that, Jesus gave one last smile and then turned to walk away. 

“I’ll look out for Clyde,” Kyle said, without any doubt that the brunet would be making his way skywards. 

“Thanks,” Kenny said. “I’ll come visit you, dude.”

“Wait, what?” Stan demanded. “Kenny, you can’t -!” Before he could insist his friend was not to commit suicide, Kyle kissed him, effectively silencing him. 

Thinking it best to give the two their privacy before they had to say their final goodbye, Kenny turned and walked over to the wolves. Only the alpha didn’t start growling as he approached, but despite the sound reverberating through their throats, they didn’t attack. They wouldn’t attack unless their alpha commanded it. 

Kenny touched Tweek’s head, ruffling the fur between his ears. “You make a cute wolf, Tweekers, but I hope one day we can figure out a cure for you guys.”

Tweek licked his hand.

“Gross dude!” Kenny laughed. “That better not be my sister, by the way.”

Tweek did the best he could to shake his head no. Of course Kenny understood. Their relationship might not have been what Kenny once wished it to be, but it was so much more than that. They understood each other perfectly, even when they were different species. 

“Thank god,” Kenny said. “Okay, you guys need to get out of here before the cops show up.”

Kenny glanced over his shoulder at Stan and Kyle, wound tightly in each others arms and then made his way over to Token and Butters. He took Butters hand in his own, using his other, free hand to wipe Butters tears. 

“We need to call the police,” he said quietly, looking down at Clyde with sad eyes. 

“And tell them what?” Token asked emotionlessly. 

Kenny didn’t know. He wasn’t sure it really mattered. This was South Park after all. Unusual deaths weren’t questioned too much. 

“Let’s tell them the truth. We saved South Park from an army from Hell and Clyde died a hero helping us,” Butters said. 

“In that case, we’ll leave the talking to you,” Kenny said as lightly as he was able, nudging Butters with his shoulder. 

He glanced back over to where the wolves had been but they were gone. 

His gaze rolled to where Stan and Kyle had been saying goodbye but Kyle, too, was gone. Stan was walking towards them, his jaw clenched as if he was determined not to cry. 

They had, all of them, been to Hell and back. Not all of them had made it. It would take a long time for them to recover and to learn how to live again without those who’d fallen but… they’d get there. 

Kenny had faith in them. 

He believed they could get through this. 

And he believed they would all find some form of happiness again. 

Until then, at least they had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally decided to stop neglecting Token and give him a teeny tiny role xD


	48. Epilogue

_Three months later_

“And are you sure you have everything?” Tweek fretted. He poked his nose into the cardboard box Token held to his chest, as if he’d be able to spot that one important thing his friend had forgotten to pack. 

“I’m sure,” Token humoured him. “This is the last box. I double checked everything.”

“I told you he had it covered,” Craig said from where he lounged across the couch, tv remote balanced on his chest. He was pretending to be indifferent but Tweek knew he was just as sad to see Token leave as the rest of them, especially seeing as they had only recently reconnected. 

“And you’ll phone to let us know you arrived?” 

“Yes, _mom_.” Token rolled his eyes but, after the year they’d had, he didn’t tease Tweek’s concern too much. He understood where it came from. They all did. “And you guys will be okay?”

“With this nice dig you’ve left us? We’re all set,” Craig said, standing up and gesturing around the apartment. 

Token had signed the lease to his luxurious apartment over to Craig and Tweek two days prior. Tweek, of course, had panicked that they wouldn’t be able to afford the rent. Craig assured him they had it covered and the blond decided against questioning just _where_ the money would be coming from. He trusted Craig enough to be safe in the knowledge that it wouldn’t be anything _too_ illegal. 

“And are you _sure_ it was wise to leave the pack in Cartman’s care?” This must have been the fourth time Token had asked the question now. Tweek understood his concerns – he certainly had his own – but making Eric Cartman honorary alpha was the best thing he could have done. For one, Cartman would have probably killed him for the title. Knowing the manipulative bastard, he would have played the long and sneaky game, waiting until Tweek least suspected it. That was way too much pressure. Also, as terrifying as it was to admit, Cartman would definitely make a better leader than Tweek. Sure, there was the worry that he would abuse his new powers but, with Tweek unable to officially hand over the title of Alpha without dying, he would always be able to step in if Cartman ever decided to take things too far. After all, Cartman didn’t have much choice but to obey official orders. It was a power Tweek was conflicted about. Power over Eric Cartman was both appealing and terrifying in its own right. Tweek felt it best to stay well clear of it unless absolutely necessary. 

“Nngh!” Tweek gave a violent twitch at the thought and Craig, instead, took it upon himself to answer.

“We’ll keep a sharp eye on him. Beside’s, Lizzie is insanely loyal to Tweek so she’ll report anything unusual.” Tweek shivered at the mention of Lizzie. He was not a supporter of her being anywhere near South Park after what she put him through but, unfortunately, Craig was right. Since he became Alpha she had shown unwavering loyalty and that was not something Tweek could afford to give up. With the deal they’d struck, he barely had to see her anyway. She reported directly to Craig. 

Token hummed but didn’t argue further. He readjusted the box in his arms – he’d already refused Craig’s help – and flashed a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. He hadn’t been quite the same since Clyde had died. None of them had. Tweek hoped that getting away from South Park was the answer Token needed. It had certainly helped Stan, who had quit college and gone to stay with his sister the month before. 

Kenny and Butters had visited him the previous week. Stan was still quiet, still clearly mourning, but his mental health had improved drastically since getting away from where it had all happened and the people who had been involved. Namely, Cartman. 

“Want us to go down with you?” Craig asked.

“Nah, that’s okay.” Token slid the cardboard box onto the nearest available surface and turned back to his two friends. “You two will be fine, right?”

“Nngh… Well, you know me,” Tweek said, shrugging indifferently. It was a bad joke; Token _did_ know Tweek and he knew he was a mess incapable of looking after himself. 

Token reached out and ruffled Tweek’s wild mane. “You’ll be alright, Tweekers. You’ve become stronger.”

It was true. Tweek _had_ become stronger. He wasn’t sure he could ever return to the trembling mess that Kenny found hiding in his cupboard what felt like forever ago. Even if Craig disappeared again, Tweek didn’t think he would ever revert back. That just wasn’t who he was anymore. 

Although, as Tweek side-glanced at his tall boyfriend, he was fairly certain the noirette wasn’t planning on disappearing again any time soon. 

“You better look after him,” Token warned Craig, when he turned away from the blond. “If I hear otherwise I won’t be afraid to whoop your ass.” 

“I think you’d have to get in line,” Craig said. “Tweek has become rather popular.” He smiled fondly at the shorter man before turning back to Token, suddenly serious. “You needn’t worry, though. I’m not going anywhere.”

Token nodded and then gave Craig a hug. 

Moments later, the door of Token’s ex apartment – now belonging to Tweek and Craig – shut, leaving the two alone and Token, hopefully temporarily, out of their lives. 

They watched the closed door in silence for a moment. 

Tweek twined his fingers with Craig’s. “He’ll be alright.” 

“Of course he will. He’s Token.”

With one last look at the door, they turned and made their way over to the couch, sitting with their legs pressed together. 

Things were so different now. Just months ago Craig hadn’t been seen in South Park for years and Tweek was a mess because of it. It was weird to think he’d been that person now, now that he’d been forced to grow up and find inner strength. 

They’d lost and gained people along the way and it broke Tweek’s heart to think of the lives stolen before their time. He couldn’t help but wonder what he might’ve done differently if he could go back but, unfortunately, that could never be. That was too much of a stretch, _even_ for South Park. Kyle and Clyde were gone. His parent’s were gone. These people weren’t coming back, no matter how much Tweek wished otherwise.

They wouldn’t want their loved ones to suffer though, Tweek was sure of that. All of them would want everyone to move on, to smile and laugh again, to find happiness.

So that’s what Tweek was doing. He squeezed Craig’s hand, smiling as the noirette mimicked the action. 

“So…” Tweek glanced around the apartment. It would be weird living with Craig. Tweek had only ever lived with his parents but, after everything that had happened, he had decided to sell their house. He’d refused to even step back inside the place. It had been Kenny and Craig who had packed up his belongings.

As for Tweek Bros, the blond wasn’t sure what to do. Working in a coffee shop was the only job he knew how to do, but everything about the place reminded him of his parents. And, despite Craig’s assurances that they could afford the apartment, Tweek needed a job. If nothing else, he needed to keep busy. 

Karen had suggested rebranding, making the place his own, and Tweek was definitely considering it. It seemed like a lot of work, though, and a lot of pressure on top of it. Then again, Craig, Kenny and Butters had all offered to help run the place with him, so whatever decision he made, he wouldn’t be in it alone.

He’d never have to be alone again. 

“So,” Craig echoed in his monotonous voice. 

“What now?”

Craig didn’t say anything. He nudged Tweek’s knee with his own. 

Tweek didn’t know why he was so nervous. As Craig’s knee knocked his, he cried out and jumped to his feet, where he began pacing the room. Craig watched him. If he was confused or hurt by the reaction, he didn’t show it. Then again, Craig had always been good at showing little to no emotion. 

“Gah! Do you remember when you first asked me to move in with you?” The question caught Tweek by surprise, he hadn’t realised he was going to ask it until it was coming out of his mouth. 

“Of course,” Craig said. “It was in this very apartment.”

Tweek remembered it clearly. He remembered how he’d freaked out at the question, terrified that something would go wrong. Maybe he still had those fears? Maybe that was why he felt so nervous. 

“Clyde was dead against it,” he recalled.

“I think he’d have changed his mind,” Craig said softly, dropping his gaze. Tweek knew Craig blamed himself for all the deaths that had happened. He wished he had a way to prove to the noirette that it wasn’t his fault. 

“Of course he would have, man! He loved us both, he was just… weary.” 

“Mad, more like,” Craig said. “But I don’t blame him.”

Tweek shivered and stopped pacing. “You blame yourself.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.”

“Don’t. Jesus, man! That’s way too much to handle alone. And it wasn’t your fault. You just tried to do the right thing and things spiralled out of control. If anything, I’m more to blame than you! It was – ”

“Stop,” Craig said. “I won’t let you blame yourself.”

“Then don’t blame _yourself_ either, man!”

Craig sighed and rubbed his nose, momentarily closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he nodded. “I’ll try,” he promised. 

Tweek walked over to him. “Good,” he said, “because it’s all over now and we have to move on. I don’t think I can survive living in the past anymore. Last time it nearly killed me.” He glanced at the scars on his arms. He didn’t want to go back there.

“I’m sorry.”

Kneeling down in front of Craig, Tweek took his hands in his own and squeezed them. “Can we just be happy, Craig? No apologising, no wishing we’d done things differently… Gah! I know I’m the wrong person to be saying all this, but we have to try, man. For our own sakes, we need to move on.”

Craig leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Tweek’s. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetie. From now on, let’s concentrate on the future and not the past.”

The future. 

Yes, that was what Tweek wanted. He wanted the future. A bright, happy future where he could finally be the best friend he wanted to be to Kenny. Where he could look out for Butters, Stan and Token. Where he could cringe at the stupid shit Cartman said. 

Where he could love Craig with his entire being. 

It sounded perfect. 

When Craig brought his lips to Tweek’s, he didn’t pull away. Yes, he was still uncertain about the future, still scared about living with Craig when anything could go wrong, still sad about what had happened three months ago, still a lot of things… 

But he was also happy. He was loved. He was alive. 

He was no longer broken. 

Or, at least, he’d been glued back together. There were still cracks, but they were not so fragile. They wouldn’t shatter if poked. 

If anything, they would only grow stronger. 

The future was theirs and Tweek didn’t intent to waste it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand it’s done! Phew! What a journey. Thank you to everyone who stuck with this to the end. I know it’s messy; I didn’t really plan and I lost heart along the way. However, enough of you seemed to be enjoying it so I persevered for your sakes because you are all wonderful and deserved to have this end <3 It’s crazy to think that when I started it I was just planning it to be a 20/30k fic and then wrap up. Ten months later and it’s a full blown novel xD   
> If I ever get the time and motivation, I will tidy it up. 
> 
> Thank you all again. You’re all amazing <333


End file.
